


Beautiful ( as in world-changing, show stopping beautiful)

by MyNeighborTellsMeStories



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OT13 - Freeform, Slice of Life ish, The Rest of the SVT members are very important, jeongharem because I'm into that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-10-12 10:01:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10488252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyNeighborTellsMeStories/pseuds/MyNeighborTellsMeStories
Summary: In which Yoon Jeonghan is the force that brings everything together. ---OR, Jeonghan changes the lives of 12 other people (for the better).





	1. Chapter 1

“Jihoonie!” a soft voice chimed as the door opened softly with a thud. The chaos in the classroom suspended for a split second as the students turned their head towards the front of the classroom, where the owner of the voice stood awkwardly, before quickly commencing their own loud conversations. 

A tiny boy near the back of the room, in the seat by the corner, poked his head out from behind the tall boy sitting in front of him. “What, Jeonghan?” 

Jeonghan pouted as he sat in his usual seat, by the window with a nice panoramic view of the soccer field and basketball court. “Don’t you miss me?” 

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I saw you on Friday.” 

“You know, the weekend is a very long time. I miss my cute little fluff ball.” Jeonghan reached over and ruffled his hair. 

Jihoon’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment before swatting his hand away, “How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that? One more time, and I will murder you.” Jihoon laid his head on the desk and covered his face with his arms. “Don’t look at me.” 

Jeonghan chuckled unfazed, as the tall boy in front of Jihoon turned around. “Jeonghan, I missed you.” He placed his hands over his heart and puckered his lips. 

Immediately, Jihoon’s head shot up. “Fuck off, Mingyu.” 

“Hi, Mingyu,” Jeonghan sighed out breathlessly as the teacher walked into the classroom. 

“Goodmorning class!” she chirped happily. “I hope you rested well this weekend. Let’s start attendance. Ahn Jae Hyun?” 

“Here.” 

“Ahn Young Mi?...” 

Mingyu winked at him before turning to face the front of the classroom. From the corner of his eyes he saw Jihoon roll his eyes. 

Why’s he always like this? Jihoon mouthed to him with a grimace. 

Jeonghan smiled and shrugged, brushing it off as if it was a natural occurrence (which it was), and turned to face the window, watching the soccer team practice on the field. He quickly pointed out his best friend Jisoo, better known to the rest of the school as Joshua, his English name, dribbling the ball expertly. Thanks to some weird best friend telepathy, Jisoo looked up from where he was doing his drills and smiled, waving pretentiously in Jeonghan’s direction as Jeonghan gave a small wave back, stifling a laugh when the coach yelled at for not taking practice seriously--- 

“Jeonghan? Yoon Jeonghan?” the teacher repeated herself. “Are you here?” 

Jeonghan flushed a slight shade of pink before raising his hand. “I’m here, miss. I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

The teacher smiled widely from where she stood in the room in forgiveness before continuing the role call. Beside him, Jihoon stared at him with a raised eyebrow and Mingyu noticeably grimaced, his lips curling in distaste. 

;; 

His last period before lunch ended with a flash and soon enough, Jeonghan had finished packing his bag and headed out the door. When he turned the corner, he ran into the boy in front of him, nearly toppling over but was caught by strong arms. 

“Seungcheol?” Jeonghan asked, still unsteady from the sudden impact. 

Seungcheol smiled sheepishly and released his grip from Jeonghan’s shoulders. “Hey, Jeonghan,” he rubbed the back of his neck. 

Jeonghan stared back with wide eyes, confused, and tilted his head to the side. “Do you need something?”  
“Hm?” Seungcheol himself looked confused for a second. “Oh yeah! Um, I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch with me at the bakery down the street.” 

Jeonghan frowned. “I’d like to, I really would, but I need to go to the library to help Mr. Lin with the books. He specifically requested my help on Friday, and I’d feel awful if I ditched.” 

Seungcheol nodded, awkwardly stepping backward from the rejection. Jeonghan instantly felt horrible. “But, hey, let’s have lunch together tomorrow, okay? Plus, I’ve been craving cake a lot lately, so going to the bakery would be good.” 

Seungcheol’s mood did a complete 180 and smiled like a puppy in Jeonghan’s direction. “Really?” Jeonghan nodded. “It’s a promise, okay? Don’t forget!” 

Jeonghan chuckled to himself as he watched Seungcheol jog happily away before turning and heading to the library. 

The library was eerily quiet when he walked in. Mr. Lin nor any other students were seen, and to add to the effect, the light near the entrance was flickering. As he walked further inside, he started hearing prominent grunting noises and moans of pain. 

“What? Are you going to beat me up because I won’t give you my lunch money?” A gruff, deep voice resonated from behind a bookshelf, tucked in the corner of the restricted section. 

“You fucker!” a voice shouted back, followed by a painful grunt. Jeonghan ran towards the corner only to see two people hovering over another student who was on the floor. His face was bloody and he was gripping his stomach in pain. 

“Excuse me,” Jeonghan said. The two other boys stopped. The one towards the left, who had a scruffy chin and crooked nose, sneered. 

“What do we have here? Princess Yoon Jeonghan?” He said mockingly, turning his body away from the boy on the floor to face him fully. 

Jeonghan stood indignantly and rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what happened but violence towards other students is prohibited in the school. I suggest you leave before I report you to the teacher.” 

The scruffy chin student stepped towards him, his arm slowly raising, but the other boy to the right placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“Hyung,” he whispered, “Stop, you shouldn’t fight with him.” The older student jerked his arm away from the other’s touch and growled, pushing hostily past Jeonghan’s shoulder before walking away, the other following close behind. 

Immediately, Jeonghan sprang into action, running towards the back closet, where a small first aid kit was stashed. He placed it next to the bleeding’s boy and opened it hurriedly. 

“Where does it hurt?” Jeonghan demanded, finally having a chance to study the bloody boy in front of him. He had dark black hair that covered his forehead and eyebrows, but framed his pointed face nicely, his face was nicely structured at the cheekbones, and his teeth (despite the blood) were nicely rowed. 

The boy didn’t respond. 

“Where does it hurt?” Jeonghan said again, more forcefully. When the boy didn’t respond again, he ripped open an alcohol pad and whipped his cut cheek. The black haired student hissed in pain. 

“Ouch!” He pushed Jeonghan’s hand away.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes aggravatingly, and insistently patted his cut with the alcohol swab. “I asked you and you didn’t respond, so you just gotta deal with it until I fully disinfect your cut.” 

The boy stopped struggling back and instead and sat there stone- still until Jeonghan had finished addressing the rest of his wounds. 

“Better now?” Jeonghan asked as he cleaned up the supplies. 

The boy grunted in reply. 

“You know, I at least deserve a thank you,” Jeonghan said as he turned to leave, but not before hearing the boy whisper/yell a thank you. Jeonghan turned around, satisfied. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled brightly, putting his pearly white teeth on full display. “I’m Jeonghan by the way.” 

“I know,” the boy smirked. “I’m Wonwoo.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonwoo's a little lonely, but that's okay.

Wonwoo would be lying if he said that he was doing well in school. The sad thing was, he lied a lot. 

( “Wonwoo, how are you so smart? Did you get an A, again??” 

“Natural talent, what can I say?”  
\--

“Wonwoo, can you tutor me in math? I don’t understand the theorem!” 

“Sorry, I don’t share my smarts with anyone.” ) 

It wasn’t his fault, entirely. The people around him just assumed he was some sort of brooding genius, given his round glasses that he sometimes/ most of the time wore, and his “too cool for school” vibe that he effortlessly gave off. Wonwoo just never bothered correcting them. Unfortunately, as truth had it, Wonwoo was actually failing math…. and chemistry… and world history… and everything else. 

His failing grades didn’t bother him at first, until it got to the point where the principal himself had told him to get a tutor---correction: ordered him to get a tutor-- by the following week. The next thing he knew, Wonwoo found himself in quite a pickle because as luck had it, he knew no one who’d qualify to teach him (read: he literally had no friends). 

So when Yoon Jeonghan had somehow stepped into his life-- the Yoon Jeonghan, number one student, saint, angel, princess, saving-his-sorry-butt Yoon Jeonghan-- the gods above must’ve blessed him. So that’s how he found himself walking up to the pronounced perfect student in Chemistry, where he sat next to his lab partner Choi Seungcheol, rising basketball star and soon to be captain. 

“Um,” Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck. “Jeonghan?”-- Wonwoo refrained from adding the “your highness” at the end. 

Jeonghan looked up from the worksheet he was frantically scribbling on and smiled. “Wonwoo?” he asked, shock edging on his tone. “Do you need something?” 

Wonwoo shuffled awkwardly as he felt Seungcheol place his undivided attention on him. “Can I speak to you… alone… for a second?” 

Jeonghan looked confused as he subtly nodded, placing his pencil on top of his half way completed sheet. From the corner of his eye, Wonwoo saw Seungcheol tense up (which was weird as fuck, did he miss something?). 

Wonwoo led them to a different corner, by the teacher’s desk, where no students were sitting. The teacher, Ms. Jung, was too busy grading their recently handed in research papers, which Wonwoo didn’t hand in at all, actually. 

“Wonwoo, is something wrong?” Jeonghan looked at him worriedly. “Did something happen? Are those two guys bullying you again?” 

Wonwoo raised his eyebrows, “First of all, they weren’t bullying me. I don’t get bullied. Second--” he paused for a second, bracing himself. “Do you think you can tutor me?”

Jeonghan laughed loudly.

“Look, I will even pay you, if that’s what you---” 

“No that’s not it.” Jeonghan said in between laughs. “It’s just that you got so worked up over asking me to tutor you? God, I thought you were confessing or something.” 

Wonwoo blushed, pink painting his pale skin. “What I--. I mean I don’t even kno---” 

Jeonghan cut him off and saved him from further embarrassing yourself. “Yeah, I will tutor you. No problem.” 

Wonwoo sighed out in relief. “Thank you so much, really. Can you do today, during lunch at the library or…?” 

Jeonghan shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, I’m eating lunch with Seungcheol today. How about later, after school, I can ask Mr. Lin to save us a seat in the library, by the Chem books.” 

Wonwoo nodded his head gratefully. “Alright, I will see you then.” Jeonghan turned and started to walk away when Wonwoo suddenly remembered something and called out to him. 

“Wait! One more thing,” Jeonghan turned back to look at him. “I kind of need you to tutor me in…everything… not just Chem.”

Jeonghan laughed again, his eyes wrinkling into pretty crescent moons. “Like I said, not a problem.” He continued to walk along the aisle, between two rows of lab tables, back towards his seat, where Seungcheol was not so secretly looking at them. 

Wonwoo sighed, he managed to get Yoon Jeonghan--- the Yoon Jeonghan, saint, angel, princess, saving his ass twice Yoon Jeonghan-- to tutor him. He honestly had no idea how he could be more blessed. Life was good. 

;; 

Wonwoo tapped his pencil on the table, when he heard Jeonghan’s voice near the entrance. 

“Bye, Soonyoung, I will see you later. Tell Seungkwan I will call him later okay?” Wonwoo heard the so called Soonyoung reply with a happy “yes” as Jeonghan walked towards the table. 

“Hi,” Wonwoo grunted, tired. 

Jeonghan smiled happily. “Hey.” He set his books down on the table. “Are you ready to start? Do you want to start with math or chemistry?” 

Wonwoo groaned and laid his head on the table. “I don’t want to do any of this, just let me fail.” 

Jeonghan laughed and gently whacked the back of his head. “We didn’t even start yet. You seemed pretty eager when you asked to tutor you earlier today.” 

“Yeah, well that was earlier.” Wonwoo straightened up and took out his math notebook, gesturing towards the math problem the teacher mentioned in class. “Help me with this equation, or whatever this is… Since when was calc this hard?”

Jeonghan pulled the notebook closer to him and hummed. “You see, if you subtract x from this side and….” 

Wonwoo tried to listen. He really did, and he means it in the most sincere way possible. 

“Wonwoo!” Jeonghan yelled, snapping Wonwoo out of his sleepy haze. 

“Hmm?” 

“Were you even listening?” Jeonghan subtly pouted and set down the pencil he was holding. Wonwoo nodded. “Okay, fine solve the question, then.”

“Fine. I will.” Wonwoo pulled the notebook closer to him and stared at the question. Wha…? He cleared his throat. “Uhhh…” 

Jeonghan smirked. “Yep, you were totally listening alright.” 

Wonwoo threw his hands up in frustration, “it’s so boring, I can’t help it. I’m sorry, okay?” 

Jeonghan’s smirk was wiped off his face and looked almost sad for a second, and it actually made Wonwoo feel bad which was a miracle of itself. Sudden feelings of regret washed over him as he watched Jeonghan sit in front of him with a frown on his face. After a minute or two of silence, Wonwoo opened his mouth to say an apology when Jeonghan cut him off. 

“I got it!” Jeonghan said happily, his bright smile appearing on his face again, much to Wonwoo’s relief. 

“Huh? Got what?” 

Jeonghan tilted his head to the side cutely and asked, “Wonwoo, we’re friends now, right?” 

Wonwoo felt his hands go slack, his hairs stand on end as a weird indescribable feeling washed over him relentlessly. He gulped. “Sure, I guess,” he managed to say. 

Jeonghan clapped his hands together cheerfully. “Great, then since we’re friends we should at least get to know each other more, right?” Wonwoo nodded, slowly. “So let’s play a game, every time you answer a math question right, we can both ask each other one question. Okay?” 

Wonwoo laughed. “What is this, 20 questions?” 

But he couldn’t help admit that he was slightly interested, if not slightly, then very. Wonwoo was pretty sure that many people in this school would kill for a chance like this. In all honesty, the question “who is Yoon Jeonghan really?” probably crossed the mind of every living body in this school building at least once. 

Jeonghan shrugged. “Sure, if you want to think of it like that.” 

“Okay, fine then, I’m up for that.” Jeonghan smiled and slid the notebook across the table. 

“Here answer this question, it’s simple.” Wonwoo, with new found motivation, completed the question easily, x was obviously 53. 

“Here,” Wonwoo slid the notebook back towards Jeonghan, to which he happily found out that x was, indeed, 53. Since Wonwoo needed some time to think, he asked Jeonghan to go first. 

“Favorite word?” Jeonghan asked, grinning slightly. 

Wonwoo scoffed. “Favorite word? What kind of question is that?” 

Jeonghan opened his mouth in offence. “Hey, it’s a valid question! Now, answer it!” 

Wonwoo leaned his head into his hand for a second to think. “Halcyon.” 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow and his nose scrunched up in confusion. “What, why?” 

Wonwoo shrugged nonchalantly, but felt his heart beat belligerently against his chest. “Halcyon-- happy, carefree. What more could a person want?” 

Jeonghan leaned forward. “Well, … are you a halcyon person, then?” 

“Tsk tsk, Jeonghan, only one question, remember?” Wonwoo played, chuckling, at which Jeonghan whined. “Okay, my turn… uhhhh, worst fear?” 

Jeonghan tilted his head to the side (which seemed to be his signature move, as Wonwoo so carefully observed). “Hmmm, I already know what my worst fear is, but I’m pretty sure if I tell you, you’re going to judge me so hard.” 

Wonwoo shook his head, “No I won’t, promise, cross my heart and hope to die.” 

Jeonghan sighed. “Okay, this is going to sound so weird, but my worst fear is being unloved, unneeded, hated… lonely?” His voice raised at the last syllable in inquisition. 

Wonwoo scoffed incredulously. “You? Yoon Jeonghan, The fucking Yoon Jeonghan unloved? Unneeded? Who in their right mind would hate you?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Oh please, Wonwoo. Did you actually like me before I saved you from your bully?” 

Wonwoo leaned back into his chair. “I told you, I wasn’t being bullied. And okay, fine I admit it, I didn’t particularly like you, but I never hated you. And plus, you’re like perfect!” 

Jeonghan crossed his arms in annoyance. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

Wonwoo huffed before finally giving in: “I was jealous of you, okay? I’m telling you, what more could a person want? You have friends, you have straight A’s, the teachers freaking worship the very ground you walk on, and you’re happy. That seems perfect to me.” 

The air stilled when Wonwoo finished, tension so tangible, he felt like he was swimming in it. Jeonghan looked at him blankly. 

“You shouldn’t speak so surely about the things you don’t know about, Wonwoo.” 

;; 

When Jeonghan finally finished tutoring him, it was already seven o’clock. By then, the sun had long since set and when Wonwoo kindly offered to walk Jeonghan home, he refused, choosing to part at a crossway with an exchange of “see you tomorrow”s. On his way home, Wonwoo had a lot of time to think. 

Yoon Jeonghan-- the Yoon Jeonghan, number one student, saint, angel, princess, mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is practically draining my life away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol worries about his future.

Seungcheol was at the top of the stereotypical, albeit the all too true (whether you like it or not), high school hierarchy. Since his freshman days three years ago, when he first joined the basketball team and easily earned his title as rookie ace, he walked the halls of his school with laid back confidence and charisma. He doesn’t typically like to toot his own horn (he totally does), but girls and guys alike fell for him left and right when he flounces his signature move, The Wink.

The times were simpler back then, but with university applications right around the corner, Seungcheol found himself drowning in both tears and stress as a senior. That’s why Seungcheol indulges in miniature getaways with his favorite person in possibly, most-likely, absolutely, the entire world: Yoon Jeonghan. 

And after watching Jeonghan laugh with that weird kid Wonho, or whatever his name was, during AP Chem, Seungcheol was more than ready to whisk him away to the bakery, where it’d just be the two of them. 

“Jeoghannie!” Seungcheol said gleefully. “Are you ready to go get lunch now? Let’s hurry, before the bakery gets too crowded.” 

Jeonghan, who was in the middle of packing up his books, looked up and smiled. “Yeah sure, but let’s stop by the lockers so I can drop this off,” he gestured towards the books in his hands. 

The walk to the lockers was brisk and short, Seungcheol’s eager footsteps leading the way, students scrambling to the side to let him pass. At times like these, Seungcheol always found himself wishing that Jeonghan would walk beside instead of behind him. So he would have the chance to gather the pieces of courage scattered in his body which happened to be just enough for him to grab Jeonghan’s hand, so that they can walk along the halls held together in all the right places. He’s been dreaming about it since freshman year. 

In reality, walking with Jeonghan was like walking by himself, him always in the front, the boy he loves always a step or two behind him. Sometimes, Seungcheol wants to stop leading, he wants to let go, breathe, and let fate take him by the gut, and throw him off the mountain he calls “expectation.” 

The walk to the bakery was probably just as uneventful, and by the time they had ordered (Jeonghan ordered his favorite Tiramisu and he had ordered 3 melon breads and a large ass cup of coffee to go with it), Seungcheol’s adrenaline seemingly dissolved into his bloodstream, leaving him weary and flat. 

He watched as Jeonghan slowly ate his dessert, licking his lips between every three bites to get the crumbs and cream sprinkled on the corner of his mouth. 

“Cheol,” Jeonghan began as Seungcheol’s heart beat wildly to the nickname. “Have you decided yet?” 

Seungcheol frowned. “Decided what?” 

The boy in front of him sighed as he wiped his mouth with a napkin, sweeping away the leftover bits of the pastry. “ Well, it really comes down to one question doesn’t it? Basketball or Law?” 

The black haired boy frowned, putting down the bread that was fit snugly in his hand. He was fully aware of what Jeonghan was talking about. “Hannie--” 

“You have to make a decision soon. Any university will accept you, since you’re practically top of the school” Jeonghan paused a second, “ Second best to me, of course” he said jokingly. 

Seungcheol laughed weakly. “We talked about this before, my parents want me to become a lawyer, there’s nothing I can change about that.” 

Seungcheol came from a family of lawyers, the occupation rooted into the earliest stems of his family tree, back to his great-great-great-great (basically too many greats for him to even count) grandpa. His dad was a lawyer, an exceptional one at that, and he was expected to be one too. The only problem was, he didn’t want to be. 

There was one specific memory, back when Seungcheol was in the mere beginning of his teenage years, fresh into high school, he had just befriended Jeonghan, a boy that he was paired up with in class, deemed star player of the basketball team, and on the edge of discovering his passion for the sport. His dad was home early from work that day, the case closed easily due to his unrivalled persuasion. 

He had sat Seungcheol down on the big swirvy chair in his office and said in a clear demanding voice that still rings clear as day in Seungcheol’s head: “ The family’s honor is riding in your hands, Seungcheol.” He gruffly handed him a big book with Constitutional Law etched on in gold script font, “this was your grandad’s before mine, his grandad’s before his, and now it’s yours.” 

Seungcheol remembered how heavy and large the book seemed in his pubescent 15 year old hands, “Wow.” he deadpanned. “Thanks, dad.” 

“I know you won’t disappoint.” 

His dad’s deep rumbling voice morphed into Jeonghan smooth-like-silver one when Jeonghan said, “ There’s nothing wrong with following your dreams,” shaking Seungcheol out of his thoughts. 

“I never said there was,” Seungcheol replied. 

“Seungcheol-- you have the talent, and the passion to do it. It’s all there! God is practically telling you to sign yourself the fuck up for that basketball scholarship.” 

The black haired male rolled his eyes. “If God was really on my side, he would’ve had me born into another family.” 

The ghost of a smile was wiped off Jeonghan’s face as he said it. The male’s features shifting into a slight frown, but it was only there long enough for Seungcheol to notice it before his facial features were swept clean of emotion and replaced with a gentle smile. 

“The deadline to apply is a week away, which gives you a whole 7 days, 168 hours, and 10080 minutes to think about it.” 

Seungcheol scoffed, but still ended up smiling. 

“Whatever you decide, it’s up to you, I’m not in the position to tell you what to do. I can always suggest things,” Jeonghan paused and started sporadically coughing, slipping the word scholarship between coughs before continuing, to which Seungcheol chuckled at. 

“ But- as cliche as this sounds-, I’m always here for you, every step of the way, right next to you ready to support your sorry ass to whichever way you go.” 

Seungcheol smiled widely at Jeonghan’s eloquently put words, the burden in his heart lessening just a tad bit. Sometimes it leaves him in awe at how Jeonghan knows exactly what to say, in exactly the right moments. Just gives him more of a reason to love him. 

The rest of the lunch period was spent in fits of giggles at each others terrible jokes, subtle laughs, stealing each other’s food. For once, Seungcheol wasn’t plagued with thoughts about his future, what he’s going to pursue in life, his decisions. 

Plus, the deadline for the application was a week away, he had plenty of time-- a full 7 days, 168 hours, 10080 minutes to think about it. Seungcheol wasn’t worried because even if he was leading his life like he was supposed to, he’s always got someone right next to him to lean on. 

The walk back to school felt less lonely, it seemed as if both males had made a compromise: Seungcheol slowed his pace, and Jeonghan quickened his so that they walked side by side, hands occasionally brushing each step of the way. 

;; 

 

Seungcheol was absolutely sure he was going to get charged with murder for manslaughter of his best friend when Seungkwan had loudly proclaimed he was going to sit with Jeonghan the next day. The two of them were just released from class and walking towards the cafeteria because Seungcheol was too broke to buy food from outside and too lazy to find somewhere else to eat. 

“What? Since when were you friends with him?” he asked, eyes practically bulging out of his head in shock. 

Seungkwan huffed, annoyed. “We’ve been in this school for 4 years. And besides, I’m friends with everyone.”

“But Jeonghan, really? Isn’t he like out of your league or something?” 

Seungkwan frowned. “Excuse me, but you shouldn’t be talking considering you’re the one who actually likes him, and has liked him for the last 3 years.” Seungkwan pushed open the doors as Seungcheol’s cheeks burned light pink, and started walking towards the back table, where Seungcheol could make out Jeonghan’s figure, waving them over. 

Seungcheol seated himself next to Seungkwan and in front of Jeonghan. On Jeonghan’s left, was Jisoo, soccer player and Jeonghan’s very own best friend, the cat-looking boy was shifting uncomfortably and when Seungcheol turned his head, he figured out why-- because on Jeonghan’s right, was Wonho with his head lazily nestled into his hand in casual indifference. 

“What’s he doing here?” Seungcheol asked, words flying out of his mouth much more harsher than he intended to. 

Jeonghan smiled and placed his hand on top of Wonho’s shoulder-- much to Seungcheol, and clearly Jisoo’s distaste, who was practically writhing in his seat at the sight. “His name is Wonwoo.” 

“I’m Soonyoung,” an energetic voice said next to him, and Seungcheol finally noticed the presence of the boy next to him, who was happily munching away to the store bought bibimbap. 

“Jihoon,” sitting next to Jisoo, a short, pink hair boy commented. 

“Jisoo.” 

When an air of silence extended between them, Seungcheol realized that it was his turn to introduce himself. “I’m Seungcheol, nice to meet you,” he said through mildly gritted teeth.

Sure Wonwoo hasn’t done anything yet, but the way the two interacted during class, and how Jisoo looked very uncomfortable when he was normally a smiling, church loving boy, not to mention how Wonwoo (that was his name, not Wonho), was leaning too close to Jeonghan for his liking--, it was enough for Seungcheol to be wary of the other male’s presence. 

The conversation commenced when Soonyoung started to talk about how his day went by, and how his awful math teacher assigned him two projects for the upcoming month. Seungcheol was too distracted to care, eyeing Wonwoo and his motions carefully. 

It was only when Seungkwan tapped him on the shoulder when Seungcheol snapped out of his daze. “I’m not coming home with you today” 

“What why?” Seungcheol turned to his friend, a frown on his face. “I don’t have practice today, we always go home together on Wednesdays.” 

“But, I have cheerleading practice.” 

“You guys don’t need to practice, the basketball season doesn’t start until the Spring.” Seungcheol brushed off the comment. 

“No, not for you guys.” Seungkwan replied. “For the soccer team, championships are coming up, and the school’s not only known for their basketball team, y’know. The soccer team is pretty good, too.” 

“Uh-huh” Seungcheol eyed Jisoo who was immersed in a conversation with Jihoon. “So does that mean I’m going to go home alone?” 

“I mean you can always watch my practice. Or--” Seungkwan paused and gestured pointedly towards Jeonghan’s direction. “You can always go home with him.” 

;; 

Seungcheol did eventually end up waiting for Seungkwan to finish his practice, but that was only because Jeonghan was waiting for Jisoo to finish too. That’s how he found himself sitting in the metal benches with the angel-esque male next to him. 

Their conversation revealed much of Jeonghan’s relationship with Seungkwan over the 2 hour period. Seungcheol discovered that Seungkwan was, in fact, friends with Jisoo first, since they often saw each other when their practice times overlapped. But, as Seungcheol expected (since Jisoo wasn’t the type to introduce Jeonghan to anyone for that matter), Jeonghan and Seungkwan had actually became friends back in the beginning of junior year, when they bonded over a shitty teacher they both shared. 

Time passed quickly and practice ended in the middle of their heated game of rock-paper-scissors. Jeonghan had miraculously won ten times in a row, and claimed it was merely luck when Seungcheol accused him of cheating. 

The four of them walked home but when Seungkwan initiated a very high strung venting session about the cheerleading captain with Jeonghan, Seungcheol became wary of Jisoo’s presence, who seemed to be purposely matching his pace towards his. 

“Do you need something?” Seungcheol asked as Jisoo placed a finger over his lip to tell him to quiet down. 

“Quiet, I want to talk to you about something.” 

“It’s about Wonwoo isn’t it.” A lightbulb in Seungcheol’s head went off, as he realized. 

Jisoo nodded. “Why else would I talk to you?” Normally the two didn’t get along, especially because Jisoo was very aware of Seungcheol’s feelings towards the resident angel, and vice versa. 

“Go on.” 

Jisoo cleared his throat, voice barely above a whisper, “Anyways, let’s get straight to the point. I don’t like the way he looks at Jeonghan. He doesn’t seem to like him, yet, but… he probably will soon, knowing him.” he gestured towards the boy in front of him, who was laughing at Seungkwan’s animated antics. 

Seungcheol nodded as he noticed Jisoo’s demeanor completely change. Usually, he evoked a nice calming aura, much like the neighborhood church oppa. But suddenly, the air around him warped so much, that it gave even Seungcheol chills. 

“Let’s make a deal, I don’t usually like to ask you for help, but you’re kind of my only option.” 

“A deal about what?” 

“We’ll do everything we can to keep those two apart, and even if they still somehow manage to get together, we can’t let them be alone.” 

Seungcheol choked on his own spit, thinking that it was a joke. But a look at Jisoo’s face was enough to tell him that he was completely serious. “You know Jeonghan’s not an object, right?” 

Jisoo visibly swallowed. “I know.” 

Seungcheol paused, his thoughts seemingly running a million miles an hour as considered the request, eventually (and a little hesitantly) agreeing. 

“Great” Jisoo grinned, his smile returning his gentleman-like features. “And while we’re at it, let’s add Mingyu to the list.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank to all who kudo(d)/commented.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo.

Jisoo first met Jeonghan ten or so years ago. 

He was playing in his room when he heart a loud bang outside. Curious, his seven year old self looked out the window, to see a man and a woman carrying cardboard boxes from a large white truck. Among them, was a little boy with long hair tied into a ponytail, playing on the lawn. He had a stick in his hand and seemed to be running it through the grass in circles, over and over again. 

Jisoo never really remembers why he had ran out of his house to greet the boy, he just remembers that he did. The two of them had become fast friends ever since Jisoo discovered that Jeonghan shared his love of anime, especially pokemon. Late night marathons led to friendly arguments over who was stronger, charizard or dragonite. They busied themselves with learning the Pikachu song. And it was because they had sang it wherever they went that Jisoo decided to learn guitar. So they could sing together. 

Bonding over common interests eventually developed into sharing secrets. When they were ten, Jisoo told Jeonghan that his parents argued almost every time they saw each other, he told him how he was scared that his mom would leave him because every time his dad mentioned the word ‘family’ (which he did a lot), his mom would rush to the bedroom and pull out a suitcase. Of course, his mom never physically left the house, especially because his dad would always coax her into staying, but to ten year old little Jisoo, it was pretty traumatizing. 

In return Jeonghan told Jisoo about how his mom wasn’t actually his mom, and how his blood parents left him in an orphanage as a baby and the people he called “mom” and “dad’ adopted him when he was five. 

When Jisoo turned eleven, his mom left for good. He woke up to a quiet (for once) house and divorce papers littered on the kitchen counter. For three days, he had stayed at Jeonghan’s house. The long haired boy did wonders to calm his aching heart, and Jisoo remembers whispered promises of how time will heal all wounds and how Jeonghan would always offer a shoulder to cry on. 

Jisoo would be lying if he said he wasn’t protective over Jeonghan after that, not that Jeonghan needed any protecting. Even in middle school, when some older kids decided to pick on Jeonghan for his long hair and feminine features, he did fine on his own, often fighting (and winning) his own fights. 

In high school, it seemed like their relationship had a dramatic shift. Not only had Jisoo finally realized his feelings for his best friend, people no longer chastised Jeonghan for his features and hairstyle choices but praised them instead. Jeonghan, being the ever social butterfly had made fast friends. 

And if Jisoo were to be completely honest with himself, he was beginning to feel abandoned. 

;;

Jisoo sighed as he walked towards the auditorium, arms linked with Jeonghan’s. “I don’t get it, why is the principal like this? Calling an assembly out of nowhere.” 

Jeonghan chuckled, his unique “ha-ha”s sounded melodiously to Joshua’s ears. “At least we get to skip gym, I swear to god, Mr. Cho wants my head.” 

Jisoo shook his head, chuckling, as they pushed through the double doors and decided to sit in the front six rows, making sure to save a seat for Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Wonwoo ( Jisoo clenched his fists at the sound of his name.) “You’re actually pretty athletic when you want to be, Han.” 

“I know but it’s honestly too much work to run, and who wants to be sweaty? That’s nasty. I don’t know about you, but I like to smell clean.” 

Jisoo threw his head back in a hearty laugh. It’s these moments that he cherishes the most, simple conversations that reveal Jeonghan’s many sides, all of which Jisoo had the pleasure of getting to know. Like how Jeonghan was actually really lazy, and liked to sleep whenever he can. It’s an actual wonder how the boy managed to get straight A’s on his report card. 

The rows of the auditorium eventually filled up with the entire student body. Next to him, Wonwoo was eyeing him cautiously while Jeonghan chatted softly with Jihoon and Soonyoung. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the principal make his way up on stage. He walked slowly but steadily, and Jisoo can’t help but find it surreal that the man can actually move by himself, probably because he looked just about 200 years old. 

“Hello, students,” he said in a raspy voice. “ I hope this assembly didn’t disrupt the flow of the day too much.” 

The students broke out into murmurs, Jisoo even heard someone shout “THANK YOU FOR SAVING ME FROM THE HORROR THAT IS MY MATH TEACHER” and he soon realized it was actually Soonyoung who screamed it. 

The principal gestured everyone to quiet done, even tapping the mike to get people’s attention. “I’m happy to announce that Mu Ji Gae (무지개) High School will be hosting its first ever Spring Festival.” 

The students bursted out in conversation, some of them were chattering excitedly amongst themselves while others looks exasperated, obviously upset at all the effort that they would have to put in. Jeonghan, much to Jisoo’s surprise, didn’t really react, but instead stared at the principal waiting for him to continue. 

“Now, now, before you all make a fuss. It’s not mandatory for all students to participate in making the festival, but for those of you who want to volunteer, or be in charge of making an event, there’s a signup sheet in the main bulletin board. If you have any questions ask Ms. Cho, Mr. Lin, Ms. Jung, Mr. Park, and Mrs. Choi, who will be acting as coordinators for this festival. That is all.” 

The students slowly filled out of the room, Jeonghan walking with Jisoo in tow. “Where are you going?” Jisoo asked confused, as he saw Jeonghan walk opposite of the library, where the two of them agreed on spending their free period. His best friend didn’t bother to respond, but Jisoo saw him look back and tilt his head towards the right, gesturing for him to follow. 

He saw Jeonghan walk to the the huge cork board in the main hallway, with many letters, notices and forms pinned on. In the center, however, was a huge sign up sheet, with “MU JI GAE FESTIVAL SIGN UP SHEET” written on in big, bolded letters. 

“Jeonghan, wait what are you doing?” Jisoo noticed a crowd of people appear next to him, Soonyoung, Jihoon, Wonwoo, Seungcheol, Seungkwan, even Mingyu and his friends were there. 

Jeonghan walked up and signed his name on the sheet in pretty, neat handwriting that somehow matched his personality perfectly. 

“You want to sign up for that?” Jisoo said incredulously. “University applications are right around the corner, we don’t have time to worry about things like that. It’s our last year here, Jeonghan, we should be enjoying ourselves.” 

Hansol, a kid in Jisoo’s English class, nodded, agreeing. “Seungkwan, let’s go,” he started to pull at Seungkwan’s arm, but Jeonghan cut them off. 

“You’re right, Jisoo, it’s our last year here, that’s exactly why we should do it.” Jeonghan’s eyes radiated passionately as he spoke, Jisoo gulped at the sight. Stunning . 

“We’ve been here for four years, everyone, and finally, we’re graduating. Don’t you want it to be memorable? To work together one last time, to be together one last time, to create something beautiful together one last time before we all go our separate ways?” 

Nobody spoke, so Jeonghan continued. 

“ Half of us don’t even know eachother,” he gestured towards a Chinese-looking kid who was standing by Mingyu. “Jun!” he called out, suddenly. “ When’s the last time you talked to Seokmin?” A tall-ish smiling boy shifted when his name was called. 

Jun, flushed a slight pink when he replied, “Who?” 

Jeonghan looked pleased at the answer. “Exactly. And isn’t that kind of sad, being in the same place for all those years, spending most of the day in school, all of us sharing at least one class together and some not even saying a single word to each other. It’s fate that we all ended up here, and we can’t let it go to waste when the chances have aligned so perfectly for this moment. Let’s get to know each other, actually, truly, genuinely get to know each other before it’s too late. And plus, it’ll be fun.” Jeonghan looked at Jisoo, his eyes wide and pleading. “Please.” 

Jisoo shuffled uncomfortably when he felt everyone’s eyes turn to him, but perhaps it’s because it’s Jeonghan who was asking him, or maybe a part of him did regret not bothering to get to know everyone, but he found himself walking up to the board and writing his name down.

Cooly, he slung an arm over his best friend’s shoulder and smiled. “If you’re in, then I’m in.”

He felt Jeonghan wrap his arms around his waist, and he looked at his best friend’s face to find him smiling gratefully. His heart thudded in his chest when noticed how close their faces were. 

Suddenly, another figure in the crowd moved towards the board. Surprisingly, it was Mingyu, scrawling his name underneath the pretty script above. He shrugged nonchalantly as everyone gawked at him. 

Jisoo frowned when he noticed Jeonghan smile and silently mouth Thank you to him. But soon, everyone was lining up to sign their names. 

The mood was light and happy as everyone crowded together, Jisoo laughed when Seungkwan signed his name hastily, claiming that whatever they were going to make wouldn’t be as exciting or fun without him. In the corner, he saw Seokmin introduce himself to Jun. He even laughed when he saw Seungcheol awkwardly introduce himself to Minghao, another chinese boy who transferred to this school two years ago as a foreign exchange student. 

And amidst all of the chaos was Jeonghan, smiling, laughing, crying. 

( Happiness-- Jisoo, later figured out the reason why Jeonghan was crying. Happiness. The memory of the small water droplets that slid softly down Jeonghan’s features, gently curving at the cheeks, dripping from the chin-- it was imbedded in his mind. He never knew how beautiful tears could look until that moment. ) 

;;

Jisoo sat awkwardly at their usual place in the library, snuggled up in the corner, between two large bookshelves that no one seems to go to. He sat on the floor, legs criss-crossed as he stared at the scene in front of him. 

Jihoon was snuggled up to Jeonghan’s side, head pressed on his shoulder, nestled comfortable into his neck. Jeonghan was playing with Jihoon’s fingers, fiddling with each one as Jihoon laughed at the sight. 

Jisoo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and slightly cleared his throat. Unlike Seungcheol, whose actions are purely romantic, Jihoon’s were more childlike, if Jisoo had not known any better, he’d have thought Jeonghan was his older brother or at least a family member of some sort.

“Jeonghan, when are the others going to get here?” Jisoo said impatiently. 

Jeonghan hummed and continued to fiddle with Jihoon’s pinky, “I told everyone to be here at 4:00.” 

Jisoo stared at his watch. “It’s 4:05, now.” 

Jihoon, who was obviously annoyed that Jisoo kept interrupting their bonding moment, spat, “Soonyoung said he’ll get here 10 minutes late, so for god’s sake, calm the fuck down.” 

Suddenly, Mingyu came running in, Minghao and Seokmin in tow. “We’re here, we’re here,” he breathes out. 

Jeonghan beams at them, and pat the floor next to him, “Great, come sit.” 

Mingyu walks towards the empty spot on Jeonghan’s left, but Jisoo grabs his arm before he manages to sit. 

“Mingyu, come sit next to me.” 

Mingyu looks at him strangely before complying. “Sure…” 

Seokmin, instead takes the liberty of sitting next to his best friend while Minghao plops himself down next to Mingyu. 

“Do you guys know each other?” Jisoo inquired suspiciously as Seokmin instantly huddled up to Jeonghan’s arm. 

Jeonghan laughed as he patted Seokmin’s hair. “Yeah, he’s in one of my classes so we became friends.” 

Jisoo shifted uncomfortably, they better be just friends, he silently thought to himself. 

“Do you know everyone?” Mingyu asked as he also looked shocked at how one of his closest friends managed to become acquainted with the high school god without him knowing. 

Jeonghan tilted his head and looked at Mingyu, “Yes, Mingyu, I have friends, I know it’s shocking.”

Minghao, who seemed the most shy out of all them looked at Jeonghan in interest. “Hyung, can you help me with math later?” 

“You too?!” 

Jisoo laughed as he saw Mingyu look at Minghao incredulously. But Jisoo had also found it strange, how did Jeonghan manage to become friends with literally everyone in this school? 

“You got Minghao, who literally talks to no one, to become friends with you?” Mingyu breathes out. “How?” 

“It’s called being nice,” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. But before he could continue, Jun and Seungcheol strolled into the room, with basketballs tucked under their arms. 

“Sorry, basketball practice ended---” 

“WE’RE HERE!” 

A loud voice screamed ( and was quickly shushed by the librarian ), cutting Jun off mid sentence. Seungkwan walked into the room, his arm hooked around a very reluctant Hansol.

Hansol shifted awkwardly as Seungkwan rushed to squeeze in between Jun and Seungcheol. Seungcheol was pressed against Jisoo’s side uncomfortably and Jun, who seemed to get along with Seokmin well, had sat next to him. 

Hansol, after about 30 seconds, decided to sit in an empty spot next to Minghao, but not before giving a very cringy fist bump to Jeonghan and a slight nod in Jisoo’s direction. 

The rest of the very large group filled in within the next few minutes. Wonwoo had walked in and coldly sat at the edge of the circle, saying hi to no one, except a slight glance in Jeonghan’s direction (that Jisoo caught thanks to his 20/20 vision), and Soonyoung ran in 15 minutes late instead of 10, which resulted in a very harsh scolding from Jihoon. 

But soon enough, everyone was seated in a nice circle, some of them were talking frivolously with each other, Seokmin, Soonyoung and Seungkwan keeping most of the conversation going. Others, like Wonwoo and Minghao didn’t say much, but Jisoo heard Minghao whisper commentary in between remarks. 

“Okay, first thing’s first,” Jeonghan began. “Concept, we need a concept. What’re we going to be doing?” 

“Let’s do a maid cafe!” Seungcheol suggested, earning a bunch of “oohs” from the crowd. 

“Then who’s going to dress up as a maid?” 

“Seungkwan could do it.” 

“And, Jeonghannie, of course, he’ll look so pretty--” 

“NO!” 

Jisoo cut them off, cheeks slightly red at the thought of Jeonghan exposing his legs with a skirt. If he thought about it any more, blood would start to dribble down his nose for sure. 

Hansol gave him a weird look. “Ummmm, okay. Then, what?” 

There were a few beats of silence as everyone thought silently. 

“Oh! I know!” Seokmin stood up from excitement. “We could do a play!” 

“A what?” 

“Romeo and Juliet, oh how romantic!” Seokmin started to wave his hands around. “Oh Romeo, Oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” 

Soonyoung nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, that’s a brilliant idea, people would love that! We could do a modern twist on it, too!” 

Murmurs of agreement rang throughout the large group and despite what a horrible idea it was, Jisoo couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Then who’s going to be Romeo?” 

“Mingyu should be Romeo, he’s really handsome.” 

Next to him, Jisoo could feel Mingyu squirm bashfully.

“If I’m Romeo, then Juliet should be Jeonghan---” 

“NO!” 

This time, Seungcheol screamed, much to Jisoo’s pleasure. It seemed that Seungcheol had not forgotten about the deal they made yesterday. The two of them made eye contact with each other and subtly nodded. 

“O-kay,” Jun said awkwardly. “Well then, what do you want?” 

Seungcheol cleared his throat. “I don’t know… Just not that.” 

Two more beats of silence passed before Jeonghan finally said something. 

“We could do a performance.” 

“Huh? I thought we said no more plays” 

“No, not that kind of performance, Seungkwan. A performance like dancing or singing. I mean, isn’t that what idols are doing these days?” 

Surprisingly, it was Hansol who agreed first. “That’s actually are really good idea!”

Soonyoung stood up and began to dance in the small gap between the bookshelves. It was a miracle how no books fell because of Soonyoung’s sudden movements. “I could choreograph it, dancing has always been my forte anyways.” 

Even Jihoon agreed. “Yeah, and I’ve already written some songs. It actually seems doable. Nice idea, Jeonghan.” 

“Great, then it’s settled,” Jeonghan said, clapping his hands together. “Performance it is! I will just need to send a proposal to the principal for it to get approved.” 

“Great, I will help you,” Mingyu said suddenly. Jisoo was going to reject him, but Jeonghan brushed him off before he could. 

“No, it’s fine, Mingyu, you don’t have to do that.” 

Jihoon, who obviously did not like Mingyu for some unknown reason, growled. 

“No, I should, we’re both on the student council anyways, so I’m good at this stuff.” 

After much thought, Jeonghan agreed, much to Jisoo, Seungcheol and Jihoon’s disappointment. 

“Okay. And, oh, that reminds me, Mrs. Choi wants us at school early tomorrow, don’t forget.” 

Mingyu smiled boyishly, his canine teeth on full display. “Okay.” 

;;

Jeonghan and Jisoo walked home together, arms linked around each other. 

“I heard your mom’s going to be in town for a few days,” Jeonghan began. 

“Where did you hear that?” 

“Your dad told me.” 

Jisoo nodded, a lump forming in the back of his throat. 

“Do you think you’re going to be okay?” Jeonghan asked, glancing at him worriedly. 

“I-I think so.” The wind felt uncomfortably cold against Jisoo’s face. 

“You know,” Jeonghan unhooked his arm. “I wasn’t lying.” 

Jisoo gave him a confused look. 

“What I said before. You can always ask me for help if you need it, or even just someone to talk to.” 

Jisoo smiled, warmth filling into all the nooks and crannies of his body. He almost forgot, even in troubled times, he always had someone he could rely on. He playfully nudged Jeonghan’s shoulder and laughed. 

“I know.”


	5. Chapter 5

Mingyu wakes up to a cold, dark, empty house.

Sometime in middle of the night he had managed to kick off the duvet, and the chilly autumn air that seeps in the through the crack of the window he left open yesterday sent violent shivers down his spine. It seemed like his mom had left early for work, again.

Sighing, he gets off the creaky old bed (that was probably on the verge of breaking) to get ready for the day.

;;

 

Mingyu manages to get to school a whole fifteen minutes earlier than when he usually comes, and that's saying something, considering he’s normally dead tired in the morning. But the principal had requested the president and vice president of the student council to report to school early because there was a new transfer student needed some help getting around.

A figure stands by the entrance of the school gate. He could make out a lanky frame and soft hair if he squinted his eyes enough. But Mingyu doesn’t need to, he already knew it was Jeonghan. He softly jogs up next to him.

“How are you always here so early? I thought you said that you like sleeping?” Mingyu’s eyebrow rises slightly.

“I do, “ Jeonghan laughs out his reply. “ But I’m also a responsible person.”

The two of them walk into the building and towards the main office. Mingyu yawning slightly as Jeonghan softly knocks on the door, hearing a faint “come in” only moments later.

Mingyu, ever the gentleman (or playboy, if you chose to think of it like that), pushes open the door and held it open so Jeonghan could walk through, but not without his signature smirk, of course. Jeonghan seemed unfazed as he tilted his head in thanks and entered. 

“Jeonghan, Mingyu, you’re here, please sit.” The principal greets them nicely as the two of them bowed before taking a seat.

Another person was in the room, a scrawny, short boy that was probably a few years younger than him. He fidgets in his seat nervously, hands clutched together tightly. Jeonghan decides to take a seat next to the boy, which Mingyu expected, since Jeonghan seemed to have a knack for dealing with people, whether it’d be prepubescent teens or seniors with less years to live than hairs on their head.

“Mrs. Choi probably told you why you’re all here today,” the principal, Mr. Kwon, continues.

He gestures towards the student. “This is Lee Chan, he transferred from a high school in Busan, and I was hoping you two would help him get used to the new environment.”

Mingyu smiles, “Yes, sir.”

He tunes out for the rest of the conversation, leaning back into his chair. He occupies himself by looking over at Jeonghan, whose hair seemed to tumble gently down his shoulders in scintillating waves. He was listening intently to what the principal was saying, subtly nodding his head whenever the principal spoke--- Mingyu found it cute, how attentively Jeonghan would give a person his undivided attention when they are speaking.

10 minutes later, the two of them exit the office, the new transfer student-- Chan, was it?-- squished between them.

“What’s your first class?” Mingyu asks, slinging his arm over the kid’s shoulder.

“English with Ms. Deng.”

“That’s perfect, my class is in the right wing, so I’ll walk you,” Jeonghan tilts his head and smiles- making Mingyu’s heart flutter at how cute and innocent that gesture was.

The three of them walk by a group of girls, clad in heels and body tight clothing, they giggle as Mingyu walks by. Flirtatiously, he sends them a wink.

“Hey, if you want me to hook you up with any girls just ask me.” Mingyu begins, starting light conversation as they walk.  

“Cut it out.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes, but Mingyu doesn’t miss the subtle grin on his lips.

(Mingyu marvels at how lightly Jeonghan takes his words-- things he says, anything he mentions about sex, girls, blowjobs, of that sort--  Jeonghan knows Mingyu doesn’t mean it and hell, it’s so refreshing.)

Instead, he pulls out his phone from his back pocket with his other hand. “Short girls? Tall girls? Pretty ones? I even got girls who top if you’re into that.”

Chan squirms nervously under his armhold. “Uh…”

Jeonghan brushes Mingyu’s arm off of Chan’s shoulder sparingly, “You’re going to scare him away.”

Mingyu smirks, “By the way, how old are you?”

“I’m a junior.”

Mingyu’s eyes nearly bulge out of his eye sockets. “Damn, you’re that old? I thought you were a freshman.”

Jeonghan laughs and pokes at Chan’s cheeks. “Oh how cute, you still have a baby face!”

Chan pouts his lips, but the look in his eyes tells Mingyu that he wasn’t all that upset. They bid goodbye when the hallway splits in two directions.

;;

 

When Mingyu enters the cafeteria, he expects to see thirteen boys huddled in a too-small table-- and he’s shocked when he sees Seungcheol, Jun, Seungkwan and Hansol in the far left corner, clustered together slurping their homemade soup while Jisoo, Jihoon and Soonyoung sit in the opposite side.

He strides to where Minghao and Seokmin sit. “Why aren’t we all sitting together?”

Mingyu sits next to Minghao who was busy finishing his math homework while Seokmin looks up from eating his ramen.

He shrugs. “I don’t know-- just happened.”

Mingyu’s heart wrenches when he realizes that not much has changed since their meeting in the library. And while he’s upset at the lack of development, he hurts more thinking about what Jeonghan will feel when he enters the room.

A pair of arms wrap around his neck and brings him out of his thoughts. He looks up and sees a girl with pretty feminine features, high cheekbones, eyelashes too long to be real. Yuna (or at least that’s what Mingyu thinks her name is-- he’s not really good with remembering his one night stands) puckers her lips.

“Gyu~” she singsongs.

Mingyu looks indifferent as he unwraps her arms nonchalantly. “Hm?”

“I texted you this morning. I said we should have lunch today.” She sits next to him and grips his arm tightly.

Mingyu unhooks her death grip. “Yeah, no. I’m sorry. Yuna, I don’t think it’s really working out between us.”

Yuna laughs, incredulous. “What? What do you mean?

Mingyu ignores her and pulls out his phone from his back pocket. Contact deleted.

“You said you loved me!”

“Oh that? I meant that I love you in bed. You’re blowjobs are great.” The entire cafeteria was watching them like the next hit soap opera.

Yuna’s face reddens and she scoffs. “Mingyu. What are you talking about? Stop joking. Now! It’s not funny, anymore.”

At this point, Mingyu doesn’t really give a damn. “I was never joking. Just go.”

She stays rooted in her seat.

“Go!”

His loud booming voice shakes her out of her daze, and her lips curl to form an ugly grimace that taints her pretty features. Violently, she lifts her arm and slaps him across the face.

“My name’s Yumi, you fuckhead!”

She storms out of the cafeteria, her friends following closely behind her. It’s ironic, really, when he gave her friends the exact same treatment he did her.  

Mingyu touches the red mark on his cheek, wincing, before pulling out his store-bought kimbap from his bag. An awkward silence descends on the room for a few minutes before the commotion resumes.

“Again?” Minghao says tersely. “You couldn’t even date her for more than two days?”

Mingyu shrugs as Seokmin shakes his head disapprovingly. “Not my type.”

Minghao laughs. “She’s not your type but you fuck everyone who’s remotely like her? That’s sick.”

“We’ve been over this, Hao Hao. It’s recreational sex.”

“Recreational my ass.”

Before Mingyu can reply, Seokmin shoves a kimbap into his mouth. “I thought we agreed not to have this conversation every time Gyu crushes someone’s hopes and dreams.”

Minghao grumbles. “I only agreed to that when he agreed not to fuck around anymore.”

“Whatever. Just someone tell me what’s on Meng’s test. Quick, because I didn’t study.” Seokmin adjusts the pencil in his grip.

The doors to the cafeteria open again, and Jeonghan emerges, tugging on Chan’s hand. Mingyu sees him pause for a second, his bright smiling disappearing before approaching Jisoo, no doubt, upset when he sees that no one sat together.

Mingyu tries to ignore Jeonghan as he turns his attention to his phone, scrolling through his facebook account. _Who’s next?_  He presses on the profile picture of a pretty junior, Kim Minkyung. He nods approvingly as he sips his water bottle.

“Hey,” he feels someone poke his side and looks up and sees Seokmin.

“What.”

Seokmin tilts his head towards the left, Mingyu turns his head and sees Jeonghan (and Co.) sit down next to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks tersely, shoving his phone away.

Jeonghan nods at Minghao and Seokmin’s direction in acknowledgement. “Nothing, I just thought that since we’re doing the festival together we might as well eat together.”

Mingyu eyes him, but a small smile starts to form on his face. He shrugs, a bit glad to see that soft haired boy isn’t discouraged. He finds his determined ambition to get them to become genuine friends so characteristically _Jeonghan._

“Hey, Seungcheol!” Jeonghan shouts across the cafeteria, gaining the attention of more than half, if not all, the entire student population.

Seungcheol raises his head almost immediately, mouth still full of ramen. When Jeonghan waves them over, Seungkwan, no doubt, is the most excited, nearly jumping from his seat and prancing to their table, Hansol in tow. Seungcheol hurries over a second later (Mingyu swears that if Seungcheol was a dog, his tail would be wagging so crazily, it could cause a hurricane), leaving Jun to reluctantly clean up the empty soup cartons littered on the table. He eventually joins, nonetheless, sitting next to Seokmin, who he seemed to grow fond of.

“Who's that?” Soonyoung asks, pointing at Chan, whose squished between Jeonghan’s shoulder and Seungcheol’s.

Jeonghan shushes him. “We’re missing someone. Where’s Wonwoo?”

As if on cue, a dark brooding figure walks bye. Mingyu scoffs at Wonwoo’s poor sense of fashion-- with a black hoodie pulled over his head, he’d be shocked if someone didn’t mistaken him for some trashed up emo kid.

“Wonwoo~~” Jeonghan singsongs, catching Wonwoo’s attention immediately as Jisoo visibly frowns. “Come sit with us, there’s a seat just for you, right beside Mingyu.”

Wonwoo noticeably hesitates, he stands there awkwardly, shuffling back and forth. He looks so pitiable even Mingyu feels bad for him. He eventually decides to sit down, but not before buying a milk carton from the food station.

Jeonghan cheers. “You know what they say, go alone if you want to go fast, go together if you want to go far.”

The table silences.

“Wow Jeonghan... that was very profound.”

“Thank you,” Jeonghan flips his hair over his shoulder as Seungcheol showers him with compliments.

“Hold up, hold up,” Jihoon stops the commotion. “Did you actually come up with that?”

“Nah, I got it from Mystic Messenger. Jumin Han, my love.”

 

;;

 

Mingyu comes home to an empty house but it was nothing out of the ordinary. On the fringe, a green post-it note was on the verge of falling off, but Mingyu catches it before it does.

“Order in for tonight. Don’t wait for me.

Love you, Mom”

Mingyu sighs and slams the note down on the kitchen counter, anymore of that Di Di Fried Chicken and he swears he would rather starve than see another chicken wing again. Instead, he walks over to a drawer and takes out a dusty, old green apron and ties it around his waist.

Cooking has always been his solace, even as a child ( 7 when he made his first omelet). When his dad left them to be with another woman, and his mom too busy working, he had learned to make his own food. He became pretty good at it, if he dared to say so-- sauteeing mushrooms became a second nature and flipping korean pancakes on a pan, an instinct.

Mingyu decides on tonkatsu and stuffed mushrooms on the side. When he walks to the refrigerator, he remembers that his mom would probably be hungry when she comes back. Like a giddy child, he pulls out extra ingredients to make dinner for her too.  

With his skill and expertise, he finishes in no time and sets the table, making sure to cover his mom’s portion so that it’d be hot when she came back. Perhaps because he’s in a particularly good mood, he sits at the dining table and patiently waits for his mom’s return.

After some hours, Mingyu hears the distinct jingling of house keys and perks up like a puppy. He looks over to the old analog clock perched over his television. _11:45,_ it reads.

The house is dark, the old yellow bulb does nothing to provide the house with the light it needs, but Mingyu can still make out two figures enter through the doorway instead of one. Immediately, he stands up

“...Mom?”

He’s met with sloppy kissing sounds and shuffling.

“Mom,” he tries again to no avail.

He walks over to the living room and turns on the other light. What he sees utterly disgusts him. On the couch, is a man of whom he’s never seen before, but has black hair dusted with white stands. He looks old, wrinkles evidently creased on his face, laugh lines like marks drawn with a permanent marker.

But that’s not what disturbs him the most. Underneath him is his mom, face painted with layers of makeup. Even as a 35 year old, she still looks like she’s in her early twenties. The man’s hand was up her dress, no doubt already pulling down her panties.

Mingyu doesn’t distinctly remember what happens, he just remember feeling anger and frustration heat his insides like a bunsen flame. He rips the man off his mom, throwing him on the old hardwood floor.

“Mingyu!” his mom screams, shocked as she stands up, pulling up her underwear along the way.

“What the fuck?!” the man screams standing up and approaching the startled woman.

Mingyu pushes him back. “Get away, you pedophile.”

The man seems enraged, his face reddening rapidly. He looks like he’s about to combust. “What did he just call me?”

His mom shakes her head. “No, he didn’t mean it. You see, he’s just--”

The man reaches into her purse that was littered over at the side of the couch and pulls out a few $20 bills and waves it in front of her face.

“Goodbye, bitch.”

He makes his way towards the door, Mingyu’s mom running after him. “Wait. Jack! Come back!”

The man opens the door.

“DADDY?!” his mom tries one last time as the door closes.

An ominous silence descends in the room, only Mingyu’s heavy breathing audible. They stay like that for what seems like centuries before his mom breaks it by slapping him across the face.

“What right,” she begins, “do you think you have, interrupting my work like that?”

Mingyu grips his face, turning his head slightly to glare at his mom. “What right do you think _you_ have? Neglecting me like always!”

If his mom wasn’t angry before, she was furious now. She takes off her heels and throws them to the side.

“That nerve! I didn’t raise you to behave like this!”

“You didn’t even raise me at all!”

“KIM MINGYU!”

Mingyu stands his ground, gripping his hands in a tight fist at his side. He counts to 10 in his head in an futile attempt to calm down.

His mom points a finger at his face accusingly. “You take that back right now, or- or I’ll--”

“You will what?”

There's a 2 second beat.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I said, _get out!_ I refuse to be under the same roof, humiliated, by a son who doesn’t even appreciate me.”

“You know what? Fine.”

Mingyu doesn’t look back as he storms out of the house.

 

;;

 

Walking to the park seems to be an out of body experience. Instead, he’s lost in the reveries of his memories.

Mingyu feels like he’s ten again, when he ran away from home. He finds himself in the same park, sitting at the same swing set, brushing angry tears away with the back of his hand. The cold breeze bites away at his skin and he regrets not grabbing his jacket in his hasty exit.

The sky was exceptionally clear-- perhaps more clear than usual, but it’s not comforting. He doesn’t know what makes him do it, he thinks it’s loneliness, or maybe the sudden need of comfort that comes over him, but he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

With frigid fingers, he dials a number. It rings three times before someone picks up.

“Hello?”

“Jeonghan? Are you awake?”

There was a noticeable pause. “... Just barely.”

Even through the muffled phone speakers, Mingyu could make out the sleepiness in his voice. But he requests nonetheless, “Can you come to the playground right now?”

“You’re joking right.”

“Please?”

“It’s 1 a.m. in the morning. Any normal person would be sleeping.”

“Then, I guess I’m not normal.”

“That’s okay, but I want to be.”

Another pause as Mingyu figures out what to say. He hopes that the tears aren’t evident in his voice.

“I-I need you right now.”

“...”

“...”

“... Be there in a bit.”

With that, he hangs up.

 

;;

 

When Jeonghan finally arrives, Mingyu stone cold with mild hypothermia.

“Mingyu?!” Jeonghan calls, panic evident in his voice.

“Hi,” he manages.

“You’re actually crazy.”

Mingyu sees it, wide-awake, with both of his eyes. But it doesn’t take away from the dreaming feeling as he sees Jeonghan take off his large scarf and tightly wrap it around his neck. He leans close as he does so, so close that Mingyu can make out the subtle scent of strawberry lemon shampoo.

“There. Nice and cozy.”

Jeonghan sits on the swing beside him. He looks cute, tucked away in an oversized jacket, hands shoved in its pockets.

“So,” he begins. “Anything you want to say?”

It takes a while before Mingyu actually begins speaking, but he blames it on the cold for freezing up all the saliva in his mouth.

“My mom kicked me out.”

“And..?”

“We had a fight.”

“Wow, that’s elaborate.”

Mingyu laughs, but it ends up sounding like a long sigh.  He takes a deep breath before he explains his situation.

“Y’know my mom’s never actually been around. Yeah, sure, I see her at times, and when I was a kid she’d always pick me up from school, even though she was normally half an hour late. And I guess she fed me, I mean she leaves me money to buy food and stuff. But she’s never been actually _there._

Parents, right? They take time off their jobs to go to their kid’s recitals. Or maybe call in a half day just to catch up on their child’s life. Hell, they’d spend their weekends with their kids. Anything, something, just some interaction. Is it sad that my mom’s never done any of that?”

Mingyu doesn’t wait for Jeonghan’s reply.

“She’s always working, the full week, Monday through Sunday. Somedays, I never even see her face. I’m not asking for much, I just want a home cooked meal once in a blue moon, or maybe just even asking how my day was. I just want to feel… loved.”

He wipes the fat tears that leak from his eyes. “I’m so tired of feeling neglected.”

Jeonghan thinks for a while, he bites his lips, eyebrows scrunched up in thought. A few minutes pass before he says anything.

“It sounds to me like your mom loves you a lot.”

Mingyu expected a lot of things, but that wasn’t it. “What?!”

“You know what you need to do? You need to go home and give her a hug, and tell her how much you appreciate her and love her. You need to understand, or at least try to, what you’re mom is feeling right now-- you’re her kid, Gyu, she’s responsible for you, remember that.”

“I don--”

“Do you really think your mom wants to be working all the time? Who is this all for? Herself? If she was really that selfish she would’ve kicked you out to the streets a long time ago.”

Mingyu stays silent, wordless.

“Loving someone does not simply mean giving the best to them, it requires compromise, too. You’re mom’s sacrificed a lot to get you where you are today-- hours upon hours of diligent work. She’s suffered, too.”

Frustration and anger is no match for sadness-- especially when they attack him like a typhoon when he realizes what an unempathetic person he’s been. The tears don’t stop like Mingyu expected them too. If anything, they keep on coming until he’s reduced to a helpless puddle of sobs.

“I-I’m sorry,” he begins.

“Don’t be sorry to me, be sorry to your mom.”

While Mingyu’s too busy being blinded with his tears, Jeonghan gets up and kneels in front of him.

“You’ve grown up well.”

Jeonghan pats the hair on his head, fixing his bangs and brushing it away from his eyes.

“For someone who raised himself, you’ve grown up so well. I’m very proud of you.”

 

;;

 

When Mingyu returns home, he sees that his mom is not in much better shape than him (except for the fact that Mingyu has Jeonghan to lean on. What. A. God. ). Mascara is smeared across her upper eye lid, black liner running down her face pathetically. She sobs as she eats the tonkatsu Mingyu prepared.

She sits up straighter when he enters the dining room. “Mingyu?” she says nasally.

Mingyu shuffles in his step before walking over, gently pulling his mom out of her seat and into a hug. It appears that the waterworks are really going as they both cry into each other’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I love you,” he repeats it like a mantra.

Eventually, the two of them pull away from each other, his mom taking his hand and leading them to dining table. All the tension from their previous argument magically vacuumed out of the room. With a smile, she says:

“Let’s eat.”

  
;;


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday is by far the best day of the week. 

At least, that’s what Jeonghan thinks--until he wakes from a sickeningly annoying ringtone. He makes a mental note to never let Soonyoung borrow his phone again as reaches over blindly, and grabs the device off his nightstand. 

“Hello?” he doesn’t even bother to sound remotely awake. 

“Jeonghan?” 

“Uh-huh. Who’s this?” 

“Wonwoo. Are you okay? You sound kind of dead.” 

“I’m fine, just--” Jeonghan yawns. “--Tired.” 

Wonwoo heartily chuckles. “Did I wake you? What the hell, it’s already 10 a.m.” 

“And?” 

While Jeonghan tends to sleep a lot in general, he thinks this specific incident can be excused, especially because he had a legitimate reason for going to sleep late. He wonders if Mingyu made it home okay and hopes that he managed to patch things up with his mom. 

“Whatever. Listen, I need you to do me a favor.” Wonwoo says this is a hushed voice. 

Jeonghan rubs his eyes with his free hand. “Yeah?” 

“This might sound weird, but I need you to come over and convince my mom that I have friends.” 

Jeonghan’s incredulous, “You want me to lie to your mom?” 

“Hey! It’s not lying, I have friends.” 

“Sure you do.”

“I do!” 

“Uh-huh and who are these so called ‘friends’ that you speak of?” 

Wonwoo clears his throat.

“You.” 

If Jeonghan was tired before, he wasn’t now. In fact, the lethargy drains out of his veins so fast that it rivals the battery life on his phone. Instead, he’s recharged with giddy excitement. He sits up, resting his back against fluffy pillows. 

“Aww~” he coos. “You’re right, we are. No problem then, when should I come?” 

“Thanks. Really. My mom might actually send me to the therapist because she thinks I have social anxiety. I might be emo, but I’m not that edgy.”

Jeonghan chuckles.

“I will text you the address, see you around 11? There’s no need to rush.” 

“M’kay, bye.” 

He hangs up and rolls off the bed, yelping slightly when his barefeet touch the cold floor. Jeonghan knows he doesn’t have to (especially because Wonwoo’s fashion sense doesn’t seem to be the most… put together) but going over to his house, and just to meet his parents, makes him feel obligated to look nice. 

After his typical morning routine-- brushing his teeth, washing his face, putting on sunscreen and moisturizer, the whole nine yards-- he goes the extra mile to do his hair, and put on something nice. Digging through his walk in closet seems to be enough of a feat on its own, so trying to find  _ the  _ perfect outfit proves to be nearly impossible. 

But Jeonghan pulls it off nonetheless, and settles for an oversized light pink sweater and skin-tight denim jeans. He looks laid-back and cute, assembling himself so that he appears chic and stylish but not too try-hard. Passing by a full body mirror on his way out, he checks himself out, brushing his hair behind his ear and pulling on his parka.

Wonwoo’s house, as it turns out, is only two blocks away from his own, a staggering five minute walk, possibly even a measly three if Jeonghan bothered to walk faster. He makes it to his house at exactly 11:00 on the dot and rings the doorbell. 

Jeonghan stifles a laugh as he hears stumbling on the other side of the door, a loud crash and someone screaming “AH FUCK,” seconds after. He recognizes Wonwoo’s low and husky voice even before the door opens, so he’s anything but shocked when he’s met with Wonwoo’s grimacing face.

“Hi~” Jeonghan singsongs as Wonwoo steps to the side to let him in. 

“Sorry ‘bout that, stubbed my toe on the way down the stairs. Anyways, welcome.” 

He leads them to the kitchen, reiterating his accident detail for detail, but Jeonghan is barely listening, too floored by the wafting smell of home cooked tteokbokki. He doesn’t realize he had skipped breakfast till now, his grumbling stomach a surefire sign of hunger. 

“-- see the step was there. I literally flew ove-” 

“Hey,” Jeonghan cuts him off. “What’s that smell?” 

“Oh, that? My mom has this thing with proper hospitality so she making some lunch. She’s scared that she’s going to scare you away so spare her and play nice.” 

They enter the kitchen, and he sees a woman, no taller than 155 cm, ladling soup into bowls. Her sleek hair is tied into a bun and she’s adorned in a floral apron. 

“Mom,” Wonwoo calls out as she turns around, a smile gracing her features before Jeonghan can actually make out the entirety of her face.  

“Hi,” she calls out, excitement evident in her voice as she rushes over, brushing her hand on her apron. “I’m Wonwoo’s mom. Wait. You probably already know that. Err. Let me try that again. Hi, I’m--” 

“Calm down,” Wonwoo laughs as he slings an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a side hug. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just--,” she brings both her hands to cover her mouth as she squeals. “This is so exciting. I’m Mrs. Jeon, but you can just call me Younghee.” 

She extends her hand out for a shake and Jeonghan accepts graciously. 

“Nice to meet you,  _ Younghee-ssi,  _ I’m Yoon Jeonghan,” he bows at a 90 degree angle. “Thank you for having me here.” 

Wonwoo’s mom turns pink and blotchy. If Jeonghan didn’t known any better, he’d think that she was about to cry. 

“Oh my,” she pauses. “What a sweet boy.” 

It turns out that she is crying as she wipes miniscule tears that form at the side of her eyes. “Such a sweet, sweet boy.” 

Jeonghan insides warm as Wonwoo’s face heats up in embarrassment. “Moooom,” he groans. “Please, stop.” 

Younghee turns around to properly wipe the tears away from her face. “Yes, you’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry.” She turns back. “I’m not usually like this.” 

Jeonghan laughs, tilting his head to the side. “It’s okay, miss. But it’s nice to see where Wonwoo gets his cute side from.” 

“OH MY GOODNESS. WONWOO, HE’S A KEEPER.” 

At this point, Wonwoo’s facial color exceeds that of pink and transcends into a whole new realm of red. The color rivals that of a tomato. “Oh my god, this cannot be happening.

He puts his hand on the small of Jeonghan’s back and starts to push him out of the kitchen. “We’re leaving you alone so you can compose yourself. Call us down when food’s ready.” 

Once outside, Wonwoo grabs his hand-- intentionally or not, Jeonghan doesn’t know-- and starts to pull him up the stairs. It’s a weird sensation, Wonwoo’s fingers, long, large and lanky juxtapose Jeonghan’s own small soft ones. Jeonghan’s hands are engulfed completely by Wonwoo’s, tucked away cozily in between the nooks of the knuckles.  It doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Instead, it’s warm and comforting and feels strangely like home. 

He’s almost sad when Wonwoo lets go to close his bedroom door. 

“This,” he begins. “Is where I spend most of my life sulking.” 

The room is by no means big, but it’s spacious enough so that Jeonghan doesn’t feel cramped. By the window, is a twin sized bed adorned in blackish grey cover sheets and matching comforters. A desk is tucked in the corner of the room, and there’s a bookshelf aligned against the wall. Multiple band posters litter the white walls.Other than that, it was relatively empty. 

“Sit,” Wonwoo demands, sinking himself onto his bed and patting the spot next to him. 

Jeonghan obliges, leaning his back against the pillows. “What do you want to do?” 

Wonwoo shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t really plan for you to come today. But we have video games, books, board games. Uh, pokemon trading cards?” 

“Or,” Jeonghan laughs. “We could talk.” 

Wonwoo scrunches up his nose. “I didn’t know people still do that.” 

“Well, it’s really easy. You open your mouth and there’s something called vocal chords--” 

Wonwoo lightly nudges Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Alright, I get it. What do you want to talk about?”

Jeonghan pouts his lips. “Anything. It doesn’t have to be awkward, y’know.” 

“What do you mean? I’m practically the definition of awkward. You don’t get a Wonwoo without an awkward, It’s a buy one get one deal.” 

“It’s a wonder how you’re related to your mom. She’s an actual sweetheart.” 

Wonwoo cringes. “Oh my god, don’t mention her. She’s too much.” 

Jeonghan coos and pokes at Wonwoo’s stomach. “Aw, you’re embarrassed.”

Wonwoo laughs, squirming at Jeonghan’s tickles. “Stop it,” he whines, but his voice had no venom.

Jeonghan eventually relents, and leans his head on Wonwoo shoulder. Again, he’s shocked at how well his head fits into the crack between Wonwoo’s shoulder and jaw-- it’s like the association between the sun and the moon, despite representing completely different things.

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, breath rates unknowingly syncing.  

“Hey,” Jeonghan starts, “What about your dad?” 

“Hm?” 

“Your dad? I only met your mom so where’s your dad?” 

“Oh him?” Wonwoo says nonchalantly. “He’s busy working at his underground meth lab. He has to work extra hours because this secret mafia from China ordered a shit ton of drugs."

Jeonghan’s mouth drops open. “Wait wha--?” 

Wonwoo laughs, doubling over. “I’m kidding, calm down. I can’t believe you actually believed me. My dad’s out with his old college friends, you’ll meet him soon.” 

 

;; 

 

“What do you mean he’s not here?” Jisoo says as Mrs. Jung, Jeonghan’s adoptive mom, leads him out of the house. 

“Sorry, Jisoo, he left early this morning. Something about going to a friend’s house?” 

Jisoo frowns, eyebrows scrunching together uncomfortably as he bid goodbye. If he wasn’t at home, and he wasn’t with him, then where else could Jeonghan be? His mind immediately wanders to Seungcheol, and Jisoo’s frown deepens that it borders that of a scowl. 

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. 

 

To: Hannie 

From: Joshuji 

 

Where r u? 

 

Jisoo waits for a reply, mindlessly kicking a pebble as he walks to no place in general, but gives up after five minutes to no avail. It’s a heartbreaking feeling, as he thinks back to only two years ago, when Jeonghan would always invite him to whatever miniature adventure he had planned. 

Falling in love is no straight road-- in fact, it’s so bumpy that’s it can’t even be called a road because no one could possibly walk on it. Jisoo would know, he’s felt this expansion and recession far too many times. On good days, Jeonghan would be stuck to his side like a piece of gum-- except Jisoo likes the gum and wouldn’t mind chewing it no matter how old it is. (Wow, he’s definitely losing his mind). 

On bad days, Jeonghan would be particularly flippant, going to bakery with Seungcheol, staying after school with Wonwoo, and doing who knows what with Mingyu. Jisoo knows he has a problem-- especially when his thoughts are constantly consumed about his best friend’s whereabouts, and how possessive he gets when Jeonghan spends time with other people. 

But it’s a love he doesn’t want to let go of-- because every time he closes his eyes, he can only see fond memories, memories of them together-- huddled under blanket forts at seven, singing songs together at ten, holding each other at twelve-- Jeonghan can only be a kaleidoscope of happy reminiscences and  _ stableness.  _

“Hey, Jisoo!” he hears someone call his name and whips his head around only to see Hansol waving from the other end of the street. He gestures him over and Jisoo complies. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

Hansol shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m going with Seungkwan to the nearby cafe. You wanna come?” 

Jisoo narrows his eyes. “Why?” 

If Hansol caught on to Jisoo’s suspicion, he didn’t let on. “Nothing--Seungkwan can talk too much sometimes and it’s hard to keep up.” 

In the end, Jisoo agrees. 

Seungkwan, as it turns out, does in fact talk way too much. Possibly too much to be healthy for an average lung. That boy has a vital capacity of a monster. 

“--and I was shocked that he said that to me! I mean, I’m fucking  _ gorgeous,  _ and he’s shit by comparison. But no, he decided to--” 

Hansol, contrary to his claim, soaks in every word Seungkwan says like an overly porous sponge. It’s a funny sight, really, as Jisoo rests his head on his palm and barely registers anything that is said, Hansol shakes his head like an eager bobblehead and provides the necessary “Really??”, “He didn’t!” and “Ohh~, what?” when deemed fit. 

“And, yeah. That was my day,” Seungkwan shrugs, placing his lips on the tip of his coffee straw and sips. “What about you?” 

“I have no life,” Hansol pouts, ruffling his hair exasperatedly, “Why does nothing ever happen to me?” 

Seungkwan sets his cup down on the table and places his hand over his heart, lips forming into an overly sympathetic frown. 

“Aw, my poor baby,” he reaches over and grabs Hansol’s hand, “ _ I  _ happened to you.” 

Hansol seems to light up at that, immediately straightening up, “You’re right,” he agrees, “And that’s the best thing that could ever happen.” 

Jisoo shifts uncomfortably in his seat, using every bit of willpower to hold back a gag when Seungkwan giggles loudly and doubles over in a blush. 

“Aw, stop it, you!”  

It’s at this point when Jisoo decides he most definitely has had enough and clears his throat, “Um, am I interrupting something? Should I go? I don’t really like third wheeling couples.” 

He thinks back to Jeonghan’s first boyfriend, Dong Woo. It ended with a carton of ice cream, and two full weeks of sobs and cuddling (not to mention a broken tooth and black eye, courtesy of Jisoo, of course). He shudders at the memory. 

Seungkwan is utterly baffled at Jisoo’s comment. “Couple? Us- me and him?-- why we would  _ never,  _ I couldn’t even compr--- how did you know??” 

Jisoo raises an eyebrow at that. “Uh-- “ 

“We were so discreet about it, weren’t we Hansolie?” Seungkwan looks over expectantly, but Hansol is reduced to a blabbering mess, face red and flushed. 

“I mean,” Jisoo scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “You guys are always all over each other, so-- one would assume--” 

“ALRIGHT,” Seungkwan says dramatically, cutting Jisoo off. “You caught us. Hansol and I are  _ dating.  _ Yes, yes, shocking, I know--but we’ve been dating for a few months now.” 

Jisoo can only open and close his mouth like a fish. “Uh, did we not establish that?” 

“Our story is actually pretty sweet,” Hansol finally interjects. “Kwannie and I were best friends--”

“--still are best friends--” 

“--for, hmm, probably about ten years now?” 

Jisoo’s heart starts to ache as he thinks of how lucky they are, best friends to lovers, a reality Jisoo’s only ever dreamed of. 

His phone buzzes in his jean pocket, and he's in too much of a hurry to check who replied to notice that Seungkwan and Hansol’s rang too.

“Jeonghan just texted me,” Seungkwan says. “Something about going over to Wonwoo’s?” 

Hansol nods. “Weird, he texted me the same thing.” 

Jisoo starts to stand up. “Okay, then let's go.” 

But what he doesn't mention is that Jeonghan had texted him something extra: 

 

To: Joshuji 

From: Hannie 

 

Come to Wonwoo’s house now. 

Jisoo you better get your sorry ass here this instant. Love you.

 

;;

 

Seungcheol regrets everything-- and by everything, he means everything to do with his dad. 

( 2 hours before… 

“Son, where do you think you’re going?” Mr. Choi said from where he sat at the coffee table. 

Seungcheol stopped only steps away from the front door, he mentally groaned. “Uh, the park?” 

He heard his dad sigh. “Come here.” 

Defeated, chest deflated, Seungcheol made his way into the living room, “Yes?” 

Seungcheol’s dad slid a huge ass tome across the glass table-- “Here,” he says tersely. 

Seungcheol’s eyebrow shot so far up his forehead, that it reached his hairline, “Are you giving this to me, or….?” 

His dad stood up, placing his mug softly on the coaster (wouldn’t want to anger Mama Choi), “It’s very interesting, I read this when I was your age, too. Study it. Now."

He walked by, patting Seungcheol lightly on the shoulder as he did so. “No more wasting time with that ball of yours, son. Things are serious now.” )

And that’s how Seungcheol ended up locked in his room--  _ literally- _ his dad is standing right outside in the hallways like a guard dog this very moment.

Seungcheol flips through the pages of the book, barely registering anything that is written with his half awake brain. 

Suddenly, his phone lights up from the corner of the table-- it lights up with God sent message from above. 

“Thank you,” Seungcheol whispers as he picks up. 

 

To: Cheollie 

From: Han 

 

Come to Wonwoo’s house now. 

 

Five minutes later, Seungcheol’s got one foot on the ledge of his window, the other on the branch of the tree conveniently planted right outside his bedroom. 

 

;;

“No, you ass!” 

The door closes right in front of his face, but only after he receives his seventh slap that day-- on the same cheek, at that. He could be doing more fun things. 

He woke up this morning, again in the same chilly room, on the same creaky bed, same empty house-- but this time, his mother bothered to leave him what he assumed was an attempt at an omelette. He’s only got Jeonghan to thank for that. 

Changed, reborn, a new person (or so he tells himself), he leaves the house in the morning ready to right all his wrongs-- that is, knock on the door of every single girl whose heart he broke and ask for forgiveness-- like the responsible, and mature adult he is. 

Karma’s a bitch. 

Mingyu sighs as he rubs his sore cheek, turning the corner just as he receives a text. Pulling his phone out of the pocket, his face brightens as he see’s a text from just the person he was hoping for. 

 

To: Gyu~

From:

 

Come to Wonwoo’s house now 

A convoluted feeling erupts as Mingyu’s core as he thinks,  _ what the fuck is he doing at Wonwoo’s?  _ Empowered with new energy, he walks-- runs -- to the attached address. 

 

;; 

 

Wonwoo squirms uncomfortably from where he sits on his living room couch, squished between Jun and Jeonghan. 

“Uh,” he begins, shifting left and right, “Is  _ everyone  _ here?” 

Jeonghan nods happily as Mingyu walks back from the kitchen, a cup of hot tea in his hand. “Of course, we wouldn’t want to leave anyone out, would we?” 

Wonwoo groans, burying his hands in his hair, 

“And besides,” Jeonghan continues, “We all have a lot of things to talk about.” He pats Wonwoo’s knee comfortingly. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees, no feels, Jisoo glaring holes into the side of his head, Seungcheol is no better, not when he’s puffing his chest indignantly, trying shamelessly to evoke manliness. Wonwoo stifles a chuckle. It seems as if Mingyu’s the only normal one, sitting nonchalantly on the arm chair, with his legs crossed. 

What a weird bunch. 

Seungkwan’s practically on Hansol’s lap (there’s definitely something going on there) as Soonyoung tries to chug down the barley tea like it’s beer. Seokmin is belching out notes that have not been reached in the natural world while Minghao is... Bboying on his carpet? 

Wonwoo lets out another exasperated groan as Jeonghan laughs heartily, no doubt sensing Wonwoo’s discomfort. 

“Hey,” he says, “It could be worse, at least nothing’s broken yet.” 

Too soon, too soon, Wonwoo thinks, as Chan trips over Jihoon’s leg, knocking into Minghao, causing him to topple over a vase in the corner of the room. 

“Why’s Chan here again?” 

“Ah, him?” Jeonghan tilts his head with a weird motherlike look in his eyes. “He’s just so cute, I couldn’t not text him! Just look at him, oh my heart, I’m deceased.” 

Wonwoo turns his head to look at Chan, who was busy doing fifty 90 degree bows per minute in apology. 

“Uh huh.”

The front door suddenly opens and the commotion momentarily pauses. Wonwoo’s dad, clad in suit and tie steps into the living room, with eyes weary and old but still alight with kindness and hearth, and a knowing smile that only wise grandfathers could ever properly achieve. 

“Wonwoo, introduce me to all your friends. I didn’t know you had so many! Last time I checked, you had none.” His dad chuckles as Younghee walks in and takes the briefcase from his hand. 

“Apparently,” she begins, pecking her husband’s cheek, “This boy-- Jeonghan-- introduced them.” 

Jeonghan stands when he’s mentioned, but Mr. Jeon seemed to know who he was even before. His muscles slacken-- smile not completely gone, but instead fades into a nostalgic grin and his eyes cloud over with something Wonwoo associates with recognition. 

The room is silent-- even Seokmin’s stopped screaming as Jeonghan bows. “Hi, sir, nice to meet you, I’m--” 

“Yoon Jeonghan,” Mr. Jeon walks past where Jihoon still lay sprawled on the floor, he approaches until he towers over Jeonghan’s frame. “Yes, of course.” 

It’s a weird sight, watching his dad interact with his perhaps closest friend like this, but Wonwoo’s too immersed to care. 

Mr. Jeon raises his hand and pats Jeonghan’s head in a strange fatherly way, gently pulling out a knot in his hair. Jeonghan only stares at him in shock with eyes wide and blushed cheeks. It's a picturesque scene from the movies-- like a reunion between two long lost family members. 

“Uh,” Wonwoo clears his throat, breaking the trance. Mr. Jeon immediately retracts his hand and clears his throat as well, stepping backwards a few times to create some distance. 

“Er, uh, yes, nice to meet you Jeonghan,” he walks back to Younghee as Jeonghan does another bow. Wonwoo pulls him back down to his seat. 

Mr. Jeon laughs. “Sorry to interrupt you guys’ fun. Carry on, I will be in the kitchen with your mom.” He leaves, but not before taking Younghee’s hand and leading them out. 

“That… was weird,” Seungkwan says, frowning. 

“Jeonghan, do you know him?” Jisoo asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He walks over and sits on the floor by Jeonghan’s legs-- it was a protective gesture, Wonwoo could tell. 

But Jeonghan is too shocked to reply-- his lips are slightly parted as he stares into the empty space in front of him. 

“Jeonghan,” Jisoo repeats and shakes his knee. 

Jeonghan wakes up from his daze-- “Uh, sorry, what?”

“Do you know him?” 

Jeonghan shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” 

If anything, Wonwoo’s creeped out as fuck. But Soonyoung screeches before the atmosphere could deteriorate any more. 

“Ayyy,” he begins, “Let’s just forget about whatever that was and do something fun, alright?” 

Seokmin nods, immediately joining in, “Yes, please.” 

Seungkwan rubs his hands together. “Let’s play a game, I vote spin the bottle. “

Seungcheol snorts. “What are we? Twelve?” 

Chan frowns. “But, I like that game… I used to play it at my sleepaway camp…” 

At that, all the energy seemed to flow back into Jeonghan’s veins. “Yes,” he practically shouts. “Let’s play spin the bottle!” 

Wonwoo raises his eyebrow and sighs, the power of motherly love. 

Seungcheol laughs nervously. “Because I love being twelve! It was my favorite age?….a...ha..ha” 

Mingyu frowns at him at him disapprovingly. “Sure, Hannie. Whatever you want.” 

They rearranged themselves in a circle on the floor while Wonwoo goes to the kitchen to grab and empty water bottle. 

“...his father.” Wonwoo could recognize the voice of his dad anywhere. 

“Oh dear, poor child. What should we do, honey? Should we tell him?” 

His mom’s voice gets more high pitched when she’s crying. In this case, her voice could possibly crack glass. 

“I don’t know, Younghee. But his father---”

“Wonwoo!” 

His mom spots him from where he lurked in the corner. He steps into the light and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Don’t mind me. Just here to get a bottle.” 

He walks by and grabs a bottle from the recycling bin. While he keeps an indifferent demeanor (or at least, he hopes he does), inside his brain is a jumble of questions that all seven seas would not be enough to quench his curiosity. 

Who were they talking about? Jeonghan? And why was his mom crying? And whose father were they talking about?

He shakes it off as he reenters the living room, taking a seat in between Minghao and Jun as he throws the bottle into the middle.

“You know the rules,” Soonyoung says as he spins the bottle. “A penalty for every question you can’t answer.” 

The bottle lands on Mingyu-- but he isn’t fazed. 

“Oh, how fun!” Soonyoung claps his hands. “Err, Mingyu, how many girls have you dated these past 4 years--wait no, scratch that, your entire life?” 

Mingyu shrugs. “Too many to count, probably.” 

The reactions around the circle are varied. Hansol seemed mildly-- even if it's the tiniest bit-- impressed while Minghao rolled his eyes. 

The game continues until the bottle finally lands on Jeonghan. 

“Do you like someone, and if you do, who?” Seungkwan asks mischievously with a smirk. 

The air in the room stills-- Seungcheol straightens with anticipation, Jisoo frowns and bites his lip in worry, even Mingyu’s eyebrows furrow. 

Jeonghan, from across the circle, looks up and makes eye contact with Wonwoo, seconds before he answers. A weird feeling bubbles down at the pits of Wonwoo’s stomach-- something like hope as Jeonghan opens his mouth. 

“Minhyuk. Lee Minhyuk.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

Wonwoo doesn't like Jeonghan-- not romantically, that is. 

He doesn't think about the way Jeonghan tilts his head, how his eyes light up like floating lanterns, or how pure and ardent his smiles make him seem. And he most definitely doesn't think about the way Jeonghan's shirt rises as he stretches, revealing his smooth, flat navel, and the way he bites his lip when he concentrates in class and how fucking sexy he looks when he leans over---

Wonwoo doesn't think about these things because Jeonghan's a friend, and no one would ever think these things about a friend ( because that's what Jeonghan is ). 

The best relationships are nurtured, taken from the soil, molded, spun and baked until it's brilliant pot. That's right, he supposes, friendships are like pots, and Wonwoo got an A in arts and crafts back in Kindergarten.

Jeonghan shuffles awkwardly from where he sits. "Uh..." 

And Wonwoo feels like murdering Lee Minhyuk brutally, as in gauging out the eyes, ripping off skin, rubbing in that salt--for Jeonghan's sake ( platonically, of course). 

Seungkwan starts to cough hysterically. "M-Minhyuk? I-never-take-things-seriously Minhyuk? Trips-over-my-own-two-feet Minhyuk?"

"Yep. That's the one." 

Jisoo blinks a total of three times before he starts to speak, "Oh...wow...Hannie, that's...that's..great..." 

Seungcheol deflates into a puddle and rubs his eyes with the palm of his hand tiredly, but still offers a sad smile. Seungkwan subtly pats his back. "That's great Jeonghan, I'm sure you'll charm him in no time." 

"He's probably already charmed," Mingyu quips angrily and leans back, lips twisting into a scowl. 

Chan's eyes glance back and forth nervously. "What's going on?" he whispers to Jihoon. 

Jihoon smirks, enjoying the spectacle like the sadistic asshole he is, "Just sit back and watch, kid. You'll catch on eventually." 

It’s only when Jeonghan frowns worriedly, when Jihoon decides that the situation has crossed the line. 

"Did I say something wrong?" Jeonghan’s tone is nervous and poking, as he fidgets in his seat. 

Jihoon sighs as he stands up, clapping his hands together and he steps over Chan and Jun, shoving Soonyoung aside so he can fit properly in the small empty space next to Jeonghan. He glares at the four of them, starting from Jisoo and ending at Wonwoo. Wonwoo feels his neck prickle in fear when he makes eye contact with a guy half his size. 

"Let's continue," he says tersely, spinning the bottle in Jeonghan's place. 

 

;; 

 

Jeonghan squints his eyes at his phone, reading the address that Mingyu had sent him last night as he walks down the unfamiliar street. 

Mingyu’s neighborhood is shabby, Jeonghan couldn’t help but notice. The sidewalks were caked in dirt and splatters of red paint that has astounding semblance to blood , across the street is a group of suspicious people, probably not much older than Jeonghan himself, huddling in the corner, and very likely dealing some sort of drug- pot, or crack, or whatever. 

He reaches Mingyu’s run down apartment complex. The doors are unlocked and the doorman’s absent, so Jeonghan simply walks through and climbs the stairs to the third floor. 

“Hello?” he calls softly, but the door swings open before he could finish his second knock. 

Mingyu stands on the other side-- his left hand pressing against the frame of the doorway, his right resting on the knob. His height and toned muscles make Jeonghan seem small in comparison. 

“Uh.” Mingyu clears his throat before offering a wide smile, stepping aside to let Jeonghan in. “Make yourself at home.” 

Jeonghan grins happily before walking through, throwing his stuff on the couch and sitting in the crease between two cushions. He yawns as he leans back. “Are you excited to start on that proposal? Because I’m not.” 

“Who’s ever excited to do work?” Mingyu bites back as he sits next to Jeonghan, pulling his laptop onto his knees. 

They work well together, Jeonghan discovers. Mingyu types quickly, writing everything down with little to no typos as Jeonghan rapidly iterates whatever’s on his mind. It’s electrifying, as they jump off each other’s ideas-- Mingyu doesn’t always agree with him like how he prefers the phrase in which over Jeonghan’s favored wherein--but his ideas and intellectual prowess make Jeonghan admit that there’s more to Mingyu than just pretty face with an impeccable sex drive. 

Not that Jeonghan had any doubt, anyway. He always knew Mingyu was a closeted onion, it only takes time and patience to discover the different layers. 

The two of them finish in half the time Jeonghan thought they would, so he ends up lounging (literally-- legs sprawled out against all three cushions) as Mingyu makes ramen. 

“My specialty,” the taller jokes as he turns on the faucet. 

The apartment is small and a little rundown, but clean and tidy. The white couch is remarkably unstained, especially for someone so promiscuous. 

“Shocked?” Mingyu says, as if reading his mind. 

Jeonghan blushes and pretends to be oblivious. “What do you mean?” 

“The couch. Are you shocked that it’s so clean? No semen stains?” 

“Uh, sorry” Jeonghan says dumbly as he feels heat rush rapidly to his face.

Mingyu laughs, though not unkindly, and proceeds to place the pot on the stove. He stands there for a few seconds, as if contemplating the next course of action, before abruptly turning, and briskly walking to the couch, where Jeonghan still lies lazily. 

“You’re the first person!” 

He says it quick, his face slightly turned away from Jeonghan’s, eyes trained on the small dent on the ground. If Jeonghan strains his eyes hard enough, he can make out the flush of heat that graces Mingyu’s tan complexion, right above the cheekbone. 

This new side of Mingyu-- awkward, unsure, and  _ humane _ \--, Jeonghan finds it unbearably endearing. 

“You’re the first person I invited here.” Mingyu continues, nearly whispering as he shuffles from foot to foot. “Because you mean that much to me” 

 

;;

 

Seungcheol bites the tip of his pen angrily as he glares at the back of Minhyuk’s head. 

Fucking Minhyuk, he thinks, of course it’d be him, the slightly dazed, slightly childish, slightly clumsy-- he’s slightly everything-- and Jeonghan has always had a thing for fixer upper’s.  _ So then fix  _ me _ up. _

Sure, he may not be as dorky as Minhyuk, and definitely not as mentally challenged as Minhyuk either, but Seungcheol did have his faults! Like, for example, he sometimes chewed his food with his mouth open, or snorts when he laughs too loudly, and his feet twitch slightly whenever someone says the word “snickerdoodle.” (a story for which he would not like to explain).

But Seungcheol’s not bitter, because he’s not a bitter person. He’s fine, he’s cool, life’s cool (he thinks, as his pen mortifyingly bends into a shape of no return). 

Class ends and Seungcheol continues to stare daggers into Minhyuk’s head as shoves his materials into his bag and then makes a speedy exit. He does not want to be in Lee Fucking Minhyuk’s presence anymore. 

Oh his way to his locker, he runs into Jisoo, who's clearly not doing any better than he is. The soccer player was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he stared out the window, his face devoid of any emotion. 

If Seungcheol didn’t know any better, he’d think that Jisoo was simply dozing off, but he himself had wore that same very expression the day he got home from Wonwoo’s house. It only seems that it hasn’t worn off of Jisoo yet. 

He decides to cut the guy some slack. 

“Jisoo!” Seungcheol greets happily as he slings over his shoulder. Jisoo shrugs him off angrily and glares at him. 

“What do you want?” 

Seungcheol frowns. “Woah there, calm down. I was just wondering how you’ve been. No need to get all feisty.” 

Jisoo’s face remains contorted in a scowl for a staggering 3 seconds before his muscles relax, features melting into exhaustion and sadness. 

Jisoo shrugs tiredly. “Nothing much. Just. Hanging in there.” 

Seungcheol leans against the wall next to Jisoo, nodding in understanding. “Yeah, and it’s all because of---” 

“Jisoo!” 

A voice cuts them off, and its lo and behold, Jeonghan, sporting his toothy smile and smiley crescent eyes. The sight of Jeonghan’s smile makes Seungcheol’s heart sting, knowing that his smile is not reserved only for him-- and at this rate, never will be.

But, it’s only when he sees the source of all his problems, the dorky, clumsy, fixer-upper himself, tailing Jeonghan only a few steps behind, when he feels like he’s about to vomit his heart out of his chest.

He looks over and makes eye contact with Jisoo. Seungcheol’s almost positive they had the same thought. 

_ Lee Fucking Minhyuk.  _

Jeonghan makes his way over the crowd of people with little to no resistance, his smile unchanging from where Seungcheol saw it across the hallway. 

“Good news,” Jeonghan chirps happily, “Mr. Kwon approved of our festival idea. Mingyu and I worked finished it yesterday and we sent it last night.” 

_ Kim Fucking Mingyu.  _

Why, Seungcheol thinks, why is it so hard to keep everyone away from Jeonghan? He feels like bashing his head against a table, or punching a wall--something, anything, to take out his frustration. 

Instead, he smiles weakly. “That’s great, Jeonghan. I...I can’t wait.” 

Jisoo’s attempt to sound happy is also futile. He only manages a small “yay”.

Jeonghan, as Seungcheol expected, catches on quick. It’s one of the reasons he finds himself falling so hard for him-- Jeonghan’s ability to empathize (note, empathize NOT sympathize), is left rivaled to none. Sometimes, Seungcheol doesn’t even realize he needed comforting until Jeonghan says something-- the perfect something. 

“You guys okay?” Jeonghan tilts his head to the side, eyes shifting from him to Jisoo. “Did something happen?” 

Jisoo shakes his head. “It’s nothing, Hannie. I’m tired.” 

Jeonghan doesn’t buy it, Seungcheol can tell from the way his eyebrows furrow, and his lips bend in a frown. But Minhyuk ( _ Lee Fucking Minhyuk _ ), cuts in before he can call Jisoo out for his lie. 

“Come on, Jeonghan,” Minhyuk says, bringing his arm up to Jeonghan’s shoulders, leading him away. “We have to get going, or we’ll be late to class.” 

“Okay.” Jeonghan looks at Minhyuk and nods. “We have a meeting today after school in the library. Jihoon wants to show us the song selections. Don’t forget!” 

Jeonghan turns around as Minhyuk guides him to the next class. But seconds before a group of people block them from Seungcheol’s view, he swears--swears on his life-- that he saw Minhyuk turn around and  _ smirk  _ at him. 

That asshole.

“Did you see that?” he asks Jisoo, but Jisoo was too busy staring at a black mark on the ground to notice. 

“Hm?”

Seungcheol frowns. “Nevermind. Don’t you have class now?” 

Jisoo shakes his head again. “No, I have a free, but you go ahead.” 

Seungcheol pats the the small of Jisoo’s back comfortingly as he leaves for his next class, Minhyuk’s smirk still fresh in his mind.

 

;;

 

Seungkwan makes sure to seem inconspicuous as he extends his arm and expertly drops a note on Hansol’s desk. Hansol, half lulled to sleep by Ms. Yoo’s boring lecture, suddenly jolts awake at the familiar sound of a folded piece of paper landing on faux wood. 

Seungkwan nods his head slightly, gesturing him to open it when Hansol looks over. 

SK: Does Jisoo seem upset to you?

Hansol picks up his pen, scribbles his reply down and slides the paper into Seungkwan’s expecting fingers. 

HS: yeah, ever since Jeonghan said he liked Minhyuk he’s been more moody than usual. 

SK: you don’t think he likes Jeonghan do you?

HS: whaaat best friends to lovers?? Baby, that’s us!! 

SK: I don’t know, Jeonghan likes Minhyuk, remember? 

HS: Oh yeah :(( 

SK : Poor Jisoo, I was starting to like him too

HS: I know right? He didn't fall asleep when you were talking about that shithead. Jisoo must works miracles

At this, Seungkwan squints his eyes suspiciously. 

SK : are you implying my stories are boring? 

Hansol visibly starts to sweat. He raises his left hand to wipe a droplet off his brow

HS: what? Baby, that's impossible your stories make my day. Anyways, Jisoo.

Seungkwan stares at the piece of paper in thought, scribbling his response hastily a few seconds later.

SK: you know what, we should do something

HS: ?? Seungcheol tho ??

SK: Bitch, please, Jeonghan looks good with everybody. 

 

;; 

 

The one distinct, happy memory Jisoo had of his mother was back when he was five--two years before Jeonghan moved into town, four years before his parents’ relationship took a dramatic turn.

Even as a kid, Jisoo had always been possessive of the things he cherished. One day, while both his parents were working late shifts, his babysitter took him to the playground. Usually, he doesn’t bring his stuffed bunny, a toy he was particularly fond about, out of the house in fear of getting it damaged, but since the playground was always filled with the ‘big kids’ near the afternoon, he didn’t want to seem like a loner with nothing to do.

Huddled in the corner by the sandbox, and far away from the swings where the monkey king perched, Jisoo filled up his plastic bucket with sand and quickly flipped it over, trying desperately to make a castle without the aid of water. His bunny, Honey, was placed on the wooden borders of the box so that it was both in sight but nonsusceptible to getting dirty.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, a looming figure creeped over and snatched Honey from where it resided. The boy, black disheveled hair and large round eyes couldn’t be much older than Jisoo himself, but still acted larger and scarier.

“Hey!” Jisoo shouted, standing abruptly and knocking over his sand figure. “That’s mine, give it back!” 

The boy, Min-something (Jisoo doesn’t remember, now, many many years later), hid the bunny behind his back.  “Na Na Na Na Na,” the boy sing songed. “You have to catch me first.”

He proceeded to push Jisoo to the ground and sprinted proudly for the swings, back to where the monkey king laughed at this entire ordeal. 

The babysitter brought Jisoo back home sobbing, gently aiding the boy over the threshold and into the arms of his awaiting mother, graciously taking the money and making a b line out of the house. 

“Jisoo?” his mother said gently, brushing the tears off his streaked face. “My baby, what happened?” 

“Honey,” Jisoo breathed, his chest irregularly rising as he tried to catch his breath. “Someone took him.” 

His mom picked him up and held him to her chest, cradling his head in the crook of her neck and hummed. “Oh baby Jisoo, let’s get you cleaned up first yeah? And then you can tell me all about it.” 

Later that night in bed, tucked into the side of his mom and comforted by the warm confines of the blanket, Jisoo sobbed quietly. 

“Never again,” he promised to himself. “I’m not going to let people take my things ever again.”

There was a beat of silence before his mom hummed comfortingly.

“Jisoo, love is as much about holding tight as it is about letting go.” 

That night, five year old Jisoo had the best view of his beautiful mom from where he was held in her arms: long black hair, round sparkling eyes, wistful but wise smile,-- a gentle look, filled with love. 

 

;;

 

Jisoo sighs as he walks out of his last period classroom, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head slightly to get out of his sleepy reverie. His classical literature teacher had been talking about common romance tropes in heroic novels and gave a lecture about the concept of “letting go.”

He is usually attentive during class, (his teacher Ms. Meng had the most interactive lessons), but the discussion triggered the memory of his mom, a figure who he chooses to rarely think about. Is that why she left, Jisoo questions.  _ Because she loved us? _

The hallway was packed with students as everyone rushed out of the building in hurry to find comforts in their own homes. Jisoo waits for the usual influx of students to calm down instead of fighting the current to the library. 

His thoughts turn to Jeonghan instead, and wants nothing more than to find salvation in Jeonghan’s hold, his gentle voice, pats on the back and whispers of sweet comforts. He tries not to think about his mom, who’s probably settling into the guest room of his house this very moment and chooses to think about his best friend’s smile, memories from their childhood that only exist between them.

Too immersed in his thoughts, Jisoo’s shocked when he nearly topples over Wonwoo, who was looking into the classroom through the glass window of a closed door. 

“Watch where you’re going,” Wonwoo halfheartedly chides, face slacken from shock. 

Jisoo frowns at the unnatural behavior, craning his neck to get a better look into the classroom. “What were you looki--HEY!”

Wonwoo abruptly pushes Jisoo forward. “Why, would you look at the time. It’s getting late, we should go before Jihoon has both of our asses.” 

Jisoo frowns and squints his eyes suspiciously but complies. “Yeah, sure okay. Let’s go.” 

An awkward pause plagues the two as they walk down the hallway as Jisoo realizes he’s never been alone with Wonwoo before. He begins to feel distaste in his mouth when he remembers that Jeonghan has been to Wonwoo’s house before. It doesn’t matter now, since Jeonghan isn’t interested in Wonwoo either. 

“What do you think about that Minhyuk guy?” Wonwoo suddenly asks

Jisoo purses his lips together. Sure he hasn’t really talked to him that much, but from what he gathered , Minhyuk seems too much like a slacker, the type of person who never took anything seriously, let alone feelings. Jeonghan deserves better. 

He opts to reply tersely, “He seems like a joke to be honest.” 

Wonwoo barks out a sardonic laugh, “I didn’t even know he existed until Jeonghan brought him up. But now that I’ve seen him, he walks around like he’s the shit.”

They stop at the entrance to the library and Jisoo opens the door for Wonwoo politely, “Maybe it’s because he is shit,” Jisoo replies pettily as Wonwoo smiles. 

“Agreed.” 

Their conversation stops when Jisoo spots a group of people huddling in their usual corner of the library, he can already make out Seungcheol’s unruly hair and Mingyu’s giant of a stature, even Chan who he didn’t even know was part of this thing is there, but he can’t spot Jeonghan among the mess. Jisoo frowns; that’s odd, Jeonghan’s the type of person who would be early for this thing. 

He takes a seat next to Hansol who bumps shoulders with him in hello. Across the circle, Wonwoo sits down in between Soonyoung and Jun, unlike him, Wonwoo doesn’t seem surprised that Jeonghan hasn’t made an appearance yet.

“Where’s Jeonghan?” he says. Everyone hears him despite how quietly he voiced it. 

“I don--” 

Jihoon begins but through their best friend telepathy, Jeonghan rushes in the through the door, hair slightly messed up, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. Jisoo’s frown deepens.

“I-I’m sorry,” Jeonghan pants out as he doubles over to catch his breath. “I was caught doing-- uh-- things.” 

Jeonghan walks over and sits at the empty spot Jisoo makes when he scoots over. “Where were you?” Jisoo whispers. 

Jeonghan shrugs and smiles dreamily, “I said I was doing things.”

The rest of the gathered twelve stare at Jeonghan like they had just seen a ghost, Mingyu with his lips twitching, Seungcheol and his puppy eyes, Wonwoo and his stoic face. 

Jihoon scowls, fed up as he claps his hands to gain everyone’s attention. “Can you guys stop staring at Jeonghan like he has the plague? He was late, we get it, people can be late. Let’s move on.

Soonyoung nods his head in agreement, “Yeah the festival is only a few weeks away and I need to hear the songs before I start choreographing.”

Chan raises his hand timidly. “Um, what are we doing, exactly?” 

“Ah that’s right!” Jeonghan exclaims. “I forgot to tell him what we’re doing.” 

“Basically, Jeonghan convinced us to put together a fun show for the festival before we graduate, a last memory of high school sort of thing,” Seokmin explains. 

“It’s really convenient, too. Jihoon has already composed songs and Soonyoung has been dancing since he was four,” Jun adds with a smile. 

Chan’s jaw drops in awe as his eyes shift from Jihoon to Soonyoung, “I never knew you guys were geniuses??” 

Soonyoung smiles bashfully as Jihoon remains indifferent. “Thanks, kid.” the taller one says with toothy grin. 

Jihoon clears his throat. “Anyways, back to the point….” 

Like this, the conversation continued easily among the group with Seungkwan inserting hilariously sassy remarks among suggestions and even Minghao who is usually quiet breaks out of his shell. Jeonghan may have a bad taste in romantic interests, but Jisoo can’t help but admit he’s got a great taste in friends. 

Hours later, the meeting ends, the group deciding on a line up of four songs. By then, Jisoo’s only half awake and Jeonghan has to physically pull him off the carpeted library floor. 

“Seungkwan!” Jeonghan calls out as everyone shuffles out the door, mumbling tired goodbyes to each other. “Are you and Cheol coming home with us?” 

Jisoo internally groans. He forgot they walked the same way. And as much as he enjoys Seungkwan’s presence and now that he doesn’t hate Seungcheol’s guts as much, all he wants is to spend one moment alone with his best friend. 

Seungkwan seems to read his mind. “No, no,” he says, shaking his head. “Cheol and I will see Hansolie off first. You guys go ahead.” 

Jisoo sighs in relief and looks over at Seungkwan in thanks. Seungkwan winks at him as he pushes them out of the school building and onto the sidewalk. 

“What a day,” Jeonghan exclaims as they walk up the hill towards their neighborhood. 

“Yeah,” Jisoo agrees. The two of them make easy, idle conversation until the topic of his mom comes up in discussion. 

“Are you going to be okay? Being in the same house with her alone and all.” Jeonghan tilts his head in worry. 

“I’ll be fine. Dad’s business trip ends in a few days anyways.” 

Jeonghan sees right through his lie. “You don’t sound fine. It’s been a long time, Shua,” he says, calling him by his American name. “It’s okay to be a little nervous or upset.” 

“Honestly? I’m fucking terrified.” 

Jeonghan links their arms together as Jisoo continues. 

“I don’t want it to be just us two. It hasn’t been us two in more than five years, I’m not mentally ready for that.” 

Jisoo stops walking forcing Jeonghan to stop with him. Jeonghan unhooks their arms and gathers Jisoo’s head to his chest, folding their bodies together in a familiar and comfortable hug. He lets out a breath. 

“I don’t know what to do. Help me, Jeonghan. Please help me.”

Jeonghan rubs comforting circles on his back for a while before either of them says anything. To bystanders, they might look like a couple and Jisoo can’t help but blush at the idea. 

“I’ll tell you what,” Jeonghan begins. “I’ll sleepover at your house today so you won’t be alone with your mom.” 

Jisoo pushes Jeonghan back to look at his face, lighting up in excitement. “Really?” 

“Only for today, though. That way, you can get accustomed to your mom’s presence without having to be alone with her. Besides, your mom’s met me plenty of times before she left; she loves me.” 

Jisoo nods animatedly. “Only for today,” he agrees. 

 

;;

 

“Mom?” 

Jisoo opens his front door timidly and holds it open to let Jeonghan through. He hears footsteps thump on the second floor and down the stairs before his mother’s figure appears at the bottom of the stairwell directly across the living room. 

Jisoo takes a gulp, the only thing calming his nerves are Jeonghan’s delicate fingers lingering on the small of his back. 

“ _ Jisoo, _ ” he hears his mom say-- same gentle, silky voice. “ _ Welcome home.” _

An awkward hello, hug, and a shower later, Jisoo finds himself on his bed, watching Jeonghan dry his hair with a towel in an oversized t-shirt that reveals an astonishing amount of skin, the collar dips so low that it reveals the expanse of Jeonghan’s neck and collarbone, his, unblemished pale skin. Jisoo licks his lips, eyes traveling down to his--

“What are you looking at?” Jeonghan asks, staring at him weirdly. 

“Nothing!” Jisoo jerks his head in another direction, red cheeks blazing in blush. “Put on a smaller shirt for god’s sake, who even owns a shirt that big.” 

“Jisoo, I found it in your closet.” 

“Oh. Well then, go change into a smaller one.” 

Jisoo lies flat on the bed, covering himself with the duvet as Jeonghan approaches the opposite side of the bed, tossing his towel on the arm chair, turning off the light on the way. He slides under the blanket and into the empty spot next to him. Jisoo turns to his side so that they’re facing each other. 

“Didn’t I tell you to change?” 

Jeonghan laughs and gives him a look. “I’m not changing, this shirt’s comfortable, I feel so free.” 

_ A little too free,  _ Jisoo thinks to himself, as he closes his eyes and prepares to sleep. A few minutes later, he opens his eyes again, sleeplessness stubborn in his system. 

“Jeonghan” he whispers. Across the small empty space between them, he can make out his long eyelashes and delicate features, angelic even in the darkness. 

Jeonghan’s eyes flutter open and he lazily smiles. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep.” 

“I can’t stop thinking about how awkward it would be between us once you leave. I’m actually considering just not coming home tomorrow.” 

“Nuh uh, honey, you’re going to come back here and I’m going to make sure of it.” 

Jisoo groans. “What am I even going to say to her tomorrow? How will I react? I have so many questions like why did she leave? Or, was I not good enough for her?” 

Jeonghan sighs as he brings up a hand to run through Jisoo’s hair affectionately, brushing it to the side. “Stop being such a worry wart. It’ll all work out in the end, I know it will. Trust me.” 

“But how do you know?” 

“I’ve seen you guys interact. Be it five years ago or five minutes ago, I could tell you two love each other a lot. And when two people love each other, they’ll always find a way to work it out. And besides…” 

In the moonlight, Jisoo has the perfect view of Jeonghan’s face : luminescent eyes, knowing smile, kind features. If Jisoo were to describe Jeonghan in that moment, it would be all the good, best, loveliest things in the world, molded into a synergy beautiful enough to transcend time and space itself. 

“...there’s no one that I know capable of loving as much as you do.” 

  
  
  


;;

 

Somewhere, approximately five minutes away, Wonwoo lies on his bed, wide awake.

_ “Where were you?” Jisoo whispers.  _

_ Jeonghan shrugs and smiles dreamily, “I said I was doing things.” _

These so called ‘things’, Wonwoo knows has a name, and it goes by Minhyuk. He had caught a glimpse of Jeonghan and Minhyuk kissing through the window of the door moments before Jisoo bumped into him. 

Wonwoo only saw a small snippet of the scene, but it had been enough. Minhyuk’s arm was placed on Jeonghan’s back, his other hand in his hair, Jeonghan had been kissing back just as passionately. 

Now, Wonwoo doesn’t like Jeonghan-- at least not romantically. But then why does it hurt so bad? 

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's that one line that Jisoo's mom says about love, and it's inspired by a children's book titled "Love Is" by Diane Adams. 
> 
> On a friendlier note, I've been studying for an SAT II Subject test and am currently suffering from lack of sleep and over exhaustion. You win some you lose some.


	8. Chapter 8

Energy is an indispensable effort--to Jihoon, this means studying for exams until five am after late shifts at the studio, going the extra mile in carrying music sheets wherever he goes, and, of course, kissing up to his boss’ shitty ass.

It has always been difficult to balance the two spheres of work and school life, and almost intolerable the first two weeks of freshman year--his managers and teachers both equally demanding, despite merely beginning his academic and musical careers.

A month into the year, Jihoon had been close to giving up, ready to forfeit the chances of a musical career in favor for a less stressful, academic one. And that’s when he met Jeonghan, who has an invariable knack for being at the right place at the right time ( a trait that has been pointedly noticed by others, other than Jihoon himself ).

There are many ‘best’ moments in Jihoon’s life-- getting signed by a music company, producing his first single, playing a note on the piano for the first time--, yet all of them fall short to meeting Yoon Jeonghan.

It had been by mere chances; he was called to a sudden meeting by one of his sponsors, and was making a quick run out of the school. When he turned the corner, he had run right into Jeonghan, knocking him off his feet and sending them in a tumble of books, sheets, and limbs. Naturally, Jihoon had left right after, not even bothering to mumble a half-hearted sorry. But, it must’ve also been natural for Jeonghan to seek him out the day after to return a sheet of music he had unknowingly dropped.

( “You wrote this?” Jeonghan had said as he sat down in the seat in front of him, turning his back at an awkward angle just to hand Jihoon a slip of paper-- and not just any paper, but the last page of his song in the making, a song he’s spent most of the summer, and well into the school year working on.

Jihoon had nodded his head slowly, mumbling a tired thank you as he slid the the sheet into his binder, making sure to tuck it safely in the slot of the binder sleeve. He made it clear he had not wanted any human interaction.

Jeonghan, for all his social insight, did not take such hint.“Well, it looks amazing. You must’ve worked really hard on it.” )

There’s another trait distinctly Jeonghan that others have not failed to notice-- and, that’d be the way he can dichotomize those who need help and those who don’t, the difference between pity and compassion, what is helpful and what isn’t.

For Jihoon, that meant the acknowledgement of his hard work, mainly because he had encountered many people-- managers, and relatives included-- that have undermined his hard work because he had the “talent” to make up for it.

From then on after, he had sought Jeonghan out in thanks, opting to follow him and his less approachable friend, Jisoo, during lunch. Jeonghan had accepted him easily (Jisoo so much less easy), making an effort to show how much he appreciated Jihoon’s presence by offering to share notes with him if he fell asleep during class, buying him coffee after long days at the office, and picking up the habit of having a supply of sheet music, just in case Jihoon forgot his at home.

There’s one last thing Jihoon knows about Jeonghan that others wouldn’t know at face value. And that would be Jeonghan’s remarkable ability to keep secrets.

 

;;

 

“Have you seen Jeonghan lately?” Jihoon mumbles as he drags the chair over to Soonyoung’s table. He was seated at the corner of the library, finishing his homework.

“Jeonghan?” Soonyoung looks up from the notebook he’s doodling on as he moves his books aside to create space for Jihoon’s music scores. “Haven’t seen him at all, why?”

Jihoon huffs as he falls backwards onto the stiff wooden chair and shifts uncomfortably. “That’s weird. He’s been missing for a week now. Didn’t even see a glimpse of him, besides maybe in class.”

Soonyoung nods in agreement, busy attempting to draw perfect circles along the margin of the paper. “It’s so unlike him. He’s always up in people’s business, but like, in a good way.”

“Seokmin, you have to eat properly, you won’t be healthy if you don’t eat. Seokmin you can’t sleep after one a.m., that’s not good for blood flow”

Behind him, Seokmin mockingly mimics Jeonghan’s voice. He drags up a chair from the empty table and takes the seat across from where Soonyoung has finally given up on drawing.

“That’s fucked up. You’re not Da Vinci.”Jihoon peeks over Soonyoung’s shoulder and wrinkles his nose at the sight.

Feigning hurt, Soonyoung covers the circle with his hand, “Shut up, it’s not like you can do any better.”

Rolling his eyes playfully, the shorter ignores Soonyoung remark in favor of answering Seokmin’s quip. “But yeah, Jeonghan’s the mom friend nobody wants but secretly needs.”

Seokmin’s presence has become less foreign over the span of the most recent weeks, almost to point where it is enjoyable. His personality, an odd mixture of foolish panache and likeable exuberance, is a surprisingly needed addition to his and Soonyoung’s normal banter. Not that he and Soonyoung didn’t get along ( their interactions are enjoyable, as much as Jihoon would like to deny the fact ), but when the atmosphere rides tense on the exchange of sarcastic remarks, Seokmin is the perfect diffusion.

“Please say no more,” Soonyoung exclaims dramatically. “A wild Jeonghan will appear and ask me if I had lunch yet. It’s freaking 4 pm, any sane person would have eaten already.”

Seokmin laughs boldly into the palm of his hand as Jihoon stifles a laugh,  “But, in all seriousness though, I haven’t actually seen much of him at all recently. You don’t think something actually happened to him, do you?”

“Aw Jihoonie, my little Hoonie Bear,” the taller places a hand over his shoulder. “You only ever worry about Jeonghan. I’m sure he’s fine, he probably takes care of you better than you take care of yourself.”

Jihoon squints his eyes in a glare as he shakes Soonyoung’s hand off his shoulder. “Call me Hoonie Bear again and I promise you, I will--”

“Okay,” Seokmin interjects. “If anything, you can just ask him tomorrow; I bet he would tell you why. It’s probably because he had some test to study for, or because the principal wanted him to take up another project again, or something like that.”

 _That’s right,_ Jihoon reminds himself. Seokmin has been friends with Jeonghan far less than Jihoon and him. While they have been friends for practically the entirety of their high school lives, Seokmin met Jeonghan back as a sophomore, but only as mere acquaintances, until almost the beginning of their junior year.

Two years is not a short time. Within the expanse, friends can become best friends, strangers to lovers, couples to marriages. If it had been any other person, Jihoon would’ve expected Seokmin to already have been best friends with them, or at least, close enough-- but this is Jeonghan, open to others when they have problems but stubbornly reticent when he has his own.

He doesn’t know yet. He himself hadn’t known anything about Jeonghan’s personal life, besides maybe his likes and dislikes, until Jisoo had told him about his adoptive parents accidentally.

“Yeah,” Jihoon says blankly. “I guess.”

 

;;

 

As it turns out, simply catching a glimpse of Jeonghan is hard enough, nevermind talking to him. But Jihoon manages to do it. He corners Jeonghan in the hallway right before lunch starts. Jeonghan was in the midst of pushing through the crowd, like he was late to something, or was desperate to get somewhere.

“Jeonghan,” Jihoon says sternly, grabbing a hold of Jeonghan’s wrist, gripping it tightly.

“Jihoonie” he acknowledges, but his eyes flitted down the hallway, as if looking for something, _someone_. “Is everything okay?”

The shorter squints his eyes in suspicion. “No, it’s not. What’s going on--no, maybe the more appropriate question would be--where the fuck have you been?”

Jeonghan’s shoulders fall, defeated, finally making eye contact with him as Jihoon slowly loosens his grip. “No, please, not you, too. Jisoo’s already been blowing up my phone with calls, Seungcheol won’t stop pestering me during class, Mingyu, he--” Jeonghan breaks off into a long sigh. “The point is, I’ve just been busy.”

Jihoon scoffs. “What could you possibly even be busy with? Nothing is happening. Don’t give me that bullshit.”

Jeonghan purses his lips into a strained line. Jihoon can feel the muscles of his arm tense from where his hands still lay gracing the inner skin of his wrist. He takes a few steps back, giving Jeonghan the space he wants. If he has learned anything from the years he’s been acquainted with the other, is that everything must be done in small proportions; if Jihoon pushes too hard, Jeonghan pulls back completely.

“Look,” Jihoon begins, eyes softening, trying to think of the best way to phrase his words, “I get that you may not want to tell me right now, but you--”

“Hey, I gotta go,” Jeonghan says abruptly.

At first, Jihoon thinks he’s finally done it. He’s pushed Jeonghan too far and now he won’t be willing to share anything with him. But another look at his face, Jihoon decides it’s another thing entirely.

This expression-- face slacken with subtle trepidation, eyebrows bunched together in a series of tight wrinkles, lips pressed in a tight trembling line, repressed and fearful-- Jihoon takes a good look and memorizes it, every line, crack and crease. He stores it in the compiles of his memory and makes sure Jeonghan would never make this face again. He promises himself.

“Minhyuk, he’ll…. “He breaks off into a shudder. “It’s fine, I will live. Sorry, Hoonie, I will catch you sometime later, but right now, I gotta go.”

 

;;

 

There were many times Jihoon has felt annoyed with Jeonghan’s large network of close companions. But as the school festival is fast approaching, and the number of in and after school hours he’s been forced to spend with all eleven of them increasing-- he hates to admit it, but he’s grown fond.

Some, he finds particularly annoying, like Seungcheol’s blatant assertion of love-- tailing Jeonghan like puppy and owner. But even his faithful pursuit falls short to that of Mingyu’s, who’s pursuance is sometimes verbatim to his past of promiscuity ( Jihoon tries to make sure they do as little as possible together ).

Others, like Seungkwan and Seokmin, and even to an extent, his underclassman Chan, he finds them jarringly cute. Their youthful vigor makes light of practice days, an energy he thinks he’s lost so many years ago.

Today, their existence is a blessing. He mulls over his facebook messaging app for five minutes before adding the rest of the eleven into a private group chat. He wonders if he’s making a big deal out of nothing, if he had misinterpreted Jeonghan’s briskness when it had actually been because of school work or student council duties.   

But all Jihoon has to do is picture the features of Jeonghan’s face, distorted into reluctant compliance. And it’s enough. He types something nonspecific, mentioning the words “Jeonghan”, “scared” and “something’s wrong” in between.

The response is immediate. Jihoon smiles to himself, soft by their display of camaraderie.

 

 _Seungcheol :_  
wait what. what’s wrong with jeonghan

 _Jisoo :_  
I’m confused.

 _Seungkwan :_  
!! explanation pls !!

 _Hansol :_  
^^

 _Minghao_ :  
^^

 _Jun_ :  
did anyone else notice how jeonghan  
is like just. not there.

  
_Jihoon_ :  
yeah so i went to talk to him about that today  
and he seemed to be in a rush

 _Mingyu :_  
okay. and.

 _Jihoon_ :  
and he seemed to be really scared of something. like  
Abnormally scared. Idk. it was weird.

 _Hansol:_  
?? jeonghan ?? you think something’s up ??

 _Soonyoung :_  
lol you type like seungkwan too. loser.

 _Seungkwan_ :  
awh babe !! we type like each other !!

 _Hansol_ :  
Baaabe :))

 _Jihoon_ :  
can you pls  
stop

 _Soonyoung :_  
okay what do we do about jeonghan then  
how do we fix this

 _Jisoo_ :  
it’s not like we can just ask him what’s wrong  
he wouldn’t tell us

 _Chan_ :  
maybe nothing’s wrong? he’s just tired or something?

 _Mingyu :_  
jeonghan wouldn’t avoid us tho. he’s not like that.

 _Seokmin_ :  
He can barely go half a day without asking me  
if i ate properly. that’s like,,, dedication

 _Soonyoung_ :  
JEONGHAN WE CAN’T BE PROPERLY  
FUNCTIONING HUMANS W/O U. COME BACK

 _Jihoon:_  
shut up soonyoung.

 _Soonyoung :_  
okay :’))

 _Seungkwan :_  
guys. do you not watch any kdrama

 _Wonwoo:_  
i don’t like where you’re going with this

 _Seungkwan :_  
There’s only one way to solve the mystery

 _Wonwoo:_  
i definitely don’t like where you’re going w/ this

 _Seungkwan_ :  
we follow him after school.

 _Wonwoo_ :  
point proven

 _Soonyoung :_  
O.O  
I’m-

 _Seokmin_ :  
so genius

 _Jihoon:_  
Idk if jeonghan would appreciate that

 _Hansol :_  
i can’t believe i’m dating a scholar. #blessed

 _Seungkwan :_  
And also.  
Code names.  
i am eagle #1

 

;;

 

Jihoon taps his pencil in rhythm to the tune he mentally hums. Across the room, he makes eye contact with Seungkwan, who puckers his lips and then wiggles his eyebrows in an attempt to lull the both of them out of boredom. A quick glance at the clock tells him that there are only two minutes until the end of class. He feels weirdly secretive and it sits unsettlingly as a knot of nerves at the base of his stomach.

It’s so unlike him. Going out of his way just to nosy into other people’s business. But this isn’t just _people,_ it’s Jeonghan-- the same person who saved his sorry ass from drowning in relentless waves of work.

The bell rings and Seungkwan is already out of his seat, Jihoon only has a chance to shove things haphazardly into his book bag before being pulled out the door and down the hallway. He sees Jeonghan at the end of the hall, features noticeable even past crowds of arbitrary faces.

“Shhh,” Seungkwan says to him, as if he had been speaking. “Text the others and see if everything’s going planned. Eagle #1 and Hoonie Bear on target.”

“Fucking Soonyoung,” Jihoon grumbles but takes out his phone anyways.

 _Jihoon:_  
you good?

 _Soonyoung:_  
me  & hansol are already down the street

 _Jihoon:_  
Eagle #1 says to use codenames

 _Soonyoung:_  
roger that

 _Jihoon:_  
wrong. your codename is idiot

 

Jeonghan makes a quick exit out of the school, and takes the closest right turn. Jihoon thinks he’s on the way to the park. The next turn Jeonghan makes, towards the left, confirms his thoughts. Seungkwan and Jihoon huddle behind a bush, some few yards behind him.

There’s another man waiting by the water fountain. He’s of average height, and judging by his uniform, from the same school, his face too far to make out completely. Jeonghan approaches him, arms held open in a hug. The man accepts and brings a hand up to rest on Jeonghan’s neck.

On the other side of the nearby playground, Jihoon sees Seungcheol’s unruly hair stick out from behind the slide and assumes that Chan is somewhere with him.

The boy starts to caress Jeonghan’s neck gently, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by any spectators-- Jihoon’s breath hitches in his throat, Seungkwan’s eyes widen into overgrown almonds, Seungcheol, or at least, Seungcheol’s strands of hair, shifts behind the slide.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and Jihoon’s suddenly grateful for always keeping it on vibrate.

 _Seungcheol_ :  
It’s minhyuk

The boy-- now revealed as Minhyuk-- leans in and kisses him, bringing his other hand down to Jeonghan’s lower back. Even from a good distance, Jihoon looks away, the scene too intimate to watch any longer.

After a stifling, tense two seconds, Seungkwan pats his shoulder and jerks his head the other direction, signaling that it’s time to go.

 

;;

 

 _Jun_ :  
Well?

 _Wonwoo_ :  
he wasn’t by the mall

 _Soonyoung_ :  
not by the cafe either

 _Chan_ :  
ah hyung… he was at the park. Seungcheol hyung  
and i saw him

 _Mingyu_ :  
and?

 _Seungcheol:_  
he’s dating minhyuk

;;

 

A month is the quintessential limbo.

It takes exactly a month until the next full moon, a caterpillar to completely metamorphosize into a butterfly, for Seungcheol’s english teacher to grade his essays and return them.

A month is exactly how long it takes for Jeonghan to tell them.

Seungcheol knows because he’s been counting days. During practices he sits by the bookshelf, warily observant whenever Jeonghan says something, shifting at every noise Jeonghan makes during lunch-- expectant.

When he finally does, it’s anticlimactic. Everyone already knows, the news and excitement grown stale over the waning period. Jisoo forces a smile, tight and fake, and congratulates him. Wonwoo only nods in the direction, stoic and unphased. Mingyu doesn’t even spare Jeonghan a glance.

Seungcheol doesn’t care about the reactions of the three of them. What he worries about is how _Jeonghan_ didn’t care about their reactions. Maybe that why he follows him after practice, tailing him as he makes his routinal speedy exit out of the library.

“Jeonghan!” he calls out, making the other stop mid step down the hallway. “Can we please just talk?”

Jeonghan turns to face him, his face tense, unsheathed in a frown. “Seungcheol, look. I just really need to get somewhere and I’m in a tight schedule and I’m not in the mood and- “

“Jeonghan.” Seungcheol says again, stepping closer to him, and pulling him into a hug. “It’s okay, Please, calm down, alright?”

Jeonghan melts into his hold, the tightened muscles in his shoulders relaxing as he lets out a shaky breath. Seungcheol brings his two arms over the shorter’s shoulders, engulfing his stature under his biceps. He wants to keep him here forever, safely tucked in under his arms, personal and protected. He wonders what is making Jeonghan this way, so avoidant and quick to defend. He can only think of one reason.

“Alright,” Jeonghan says after a while, pushing Seungcheol away. “I’m sorry. I’m just. Not in the right state of mind right now.”

Seungcheol chuckles, stepping back, giving him his requested space. “Like I said, it’s okay.”

“What were you saying before? About wanting to-”

A voice breaks Jeonghan off, and Seungcheol’s mind, once again can only think of one thing. _Lee Fucking Minhyuk._

“Hannie!” Seungcheol’s most hated enemy ( yes, he is the _most_ hated now) appears behind Jeonghan, and places both his hands on top of Jeonghan’s shoulders.

Seungcheol makes eye contact with Minhyuk, and he glares, uncaring of whether Jeonghan can see or not. The fact of the matter is, Seungcheol had never trusted Minhyuk, at least, not since he had caught a glimpse of Minhyuk’s smirk, the day after Jeonghan admitted to harboring feelings for the other.

“Seungcheol.” Minhyuk sneers.

“Minhyuk.” he mimics. “It’s a pleasure to see you as always”

“I’m charmed. And I would love to chat some more, but we gotta go,” Minhyuk says. “C’mon, let’s get out of here”

“Hyuk, what did we talk about before?” Jeonghan says exasperatedly. “Just give me a few moments. Please?”

“Hmmm,” Minhyuk’s grip on Jeonghan’s shoulder tightens. “Right. Make it quick,” he gets out through gritted teeth, and proceeds to walk away, turning out of earshot down the hall.

“Please continue,” Jeonghan edges.

Seungcheol rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uhh,” he begins, “Are you okay? I mean- is everything okay?

Jeonghan sighs. He’s clearly not the first person to has asked him this question before. “ _Yes,_ I'm fine. Promise. It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with you guys, I’ve really just been busy”

“Busy with _what?_ ”

Jeonghan looks away, and bites his lip. Seungcheol almost feels guilty for being the cause of the look. “Can we please...take this somewhere else?” Jeonghan asks. “The others will be coming out soon, and I don’t want to make a scene.”

The two of them find an empty classroom, luckily, still left unlocked at such late hours. They sit next to each other in one of the chemistry classrooms. For a minute or two, the silence is almost innocently awkward, it reminds Seungcheol of when they first met, brought together by their a Chemistry project assigned early into the year. Freshman year had only been a little more than three years ago, but it feels like decades. He wonders about how much he’s changed, how much Jeonghan’s changed.

But as Jeonghan stares down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs in a nearly purposeful silence, he thinks that Jeonghan has changed more in this past month than all three years combined.

“I really just wanted to make sure you are okay,” Seungcheol tries.

“I am,” the other replies, “I really am. Promise.”

Seungcheol hums. The Jeonghan of three years ago, the Jeonghan of a month ago would never make promises he’d never keep, he was strangely wary of that.

“How about you?” Jeonghan asks quietly. “Are _you_ okay?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “I’m okay. I managed to send an application for the basketball scholarship without my dad finding out. It needed some forgery skills from that junior who’s always weeding in the bathroom, but--”

There is a split second of emotion that runs across Jeonghan’s face that has Seungcheol stopping mid sentence. It was a pained grimace, tearing his features apart by guilt, even his eyes start to water. It has Seungcheol thinking, _Yes, I did it. I finally did it._ True Jeonghan tries to claw its way out from this odd, dismissive shell of the real one.

“Seungcheol I’m-” Jeonghan chokes up. “I’m so so sorry. I’ve promised and I-. Shit, I don’t know how to-”

From the corner of the table, Jeonghan’s phone lights up. _Lee Minhyuk._ And as easy as falling asleep after a long day, True Jeonghan loses his battle.

“- and I-I got to go,” he dabs at the corner of his eyes, making sure to get rid of all traces of unshed tears.

Seungcheol sighs and hums, defeated and angered. He didn’t even care that Jeonghan had forgot about his basketball scholarship, he’s angry that Minhyuk’s presence-- only existing for a mere month, _a month_ in Jeonghan’s life-- supersedes his own. He’s angry that Jeonghan is so weak.

“See you tomorrow,” Jeonghan whispers as he takes his leave.

Another promise he isn’t so sure he’d keep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I promise I'm not dead. If there's anyone out there who's still reading this, even -remembers- it, I'll be eternally grateful. 
> 
> And due to recent events, if you need to talk to me, my pm box is open, with no strings attached. Merry Christmas everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Kudos greatly appreciated :))


End file.
